The Demon Link
by PhoenixFalls
Summary: Willow returned from England changed, if only everyone would give her the chance to prove herself. When Buffy finds a strange amulet, it sets in motion events that change everything, including being reunited with Tara. W/T COMPLETE::SEQUEL-The Guardians::
1. Plan B

**AN: **This story contains f/f. If that bothers you, there's a left facing arrow on the top left of your browser that you can click at any time and you can come back when you've joined the 21st century. =)

**Disclaimer:**All characters/place names/whathaveyou are copywritten to their respective owners. Everything that isn't theirs is mine. Also, just as a warning, I really like plot and I really like verbosity. Soooo, if you're looking for a pwp, ya gotta go elsewhere ;)

* * *

It was almost time. Willow Rosenburg hopped impatiently from foot to foot like a child waiting to ask an important question. It was not the frivolous impatience of unwrapping presents Christmas morning or finally knowing why the sky was blue. This nervous, gut-wrenching, nauseating impatience left her with far too much energy resulting in the fidgeting she had been doing all week. She surveyed her room with emerald eyes critically, as if looking for something before mentally reprimanding herself. It was not _her_ room…it was _their_ room and it looked as empty as it felt.

When she had returned from England, the room in fact _had_ been empty except for a smaller bed that still smelled faintly of Ikea and a dresser she had sworn used to be in the basement of the Magic Box doing its very best to hold up old files and boxes of magical bric-a-brac. She had been home for months, but still felt like she could not add anything to the room, afraid that if she did, she was making a conscious effort to forget.

"Home." She said aloud, almost wistfully. The word rolled strangely off her tongue, it felt foreign, as if she knew the word but not the concept. Willow shook her head forcefully, her short red hair whipping from side to side in her peripheral vision. No, she _did_ know the concept of home the same way she knew that no place was ever really home unless Tara was there. She let her thoughts dwell only for a moment on her deceased love before repeating the word again.

"Home!" it was more forceful this time, full of conviction, and it had not occurred to her to feel foolish for talking to an empty room. She listened to the silence ring out around her, but as expected, there was no answer, just her own determined reflection peering at her from that damnable window on the opposite wall near the bed. It was almost time. It was almost time to go home.

The spell really was not so difficult, not for the redheaded witch at least. She had come across it while still in England and without knowing why, had scribbled it down hastily in a notebook before Giles could walk back into the room, no doubt clearing his throat and cleaning his glasses nervously. Nervous. That was how everyone had been since the 'incident' or at least, that was what everyone had been calling it. Giles had gotten over it really, but it had taken long excruciating months. She often told herself that the only reason why she stayed in Sunnydale was that she did not want to prove Giles' faith in her misplaced. Deep down though, she knew better.

Deep down, pride and guilt kept her shackled to the house on Revello drive. She felt like a living ghost and that was how she was treated. Xander tried, he really did. A not quite smile touched her lips for a moment before disappearing as she thought. He _did_ try, and she knew he did but in the end, all he managed was shuffling his feet and standing awkwardly with his hands in his pockets, scrutinizing at her as if he no longer knew her. Dawn had barely acknowledged her presence since she had stepped foot into the house and while Willow understood, it still pained her terribly.

Surprisingly, out of everyone, Buffy was the worst. The blonde slayer pretended everything was okay when everything was light-years from okay. She had joked with Willow as if the witch had never tried to usher all of existence into oblivion, she had talked to her as if nothing had changed, or more accurately, as if nothing had happened. At first, Willow had believed (or deceived herself into believing) that that was just the type of person Buffy was. After all, she _had_ forgiven Angel and _he_ had killed innocents not to mention the fact that he had attempted to suck the world into a hell dimension. She had forgiven him, so the red haired Wiccan was relieved when it seemed that she too would receive the same treatment. Of course, that had been before she had seen _the look_.

It had been a few weeks after her return from England and they had been sitting together in the dining room for what would most assuredly pass as the most awkward dinner in that rooms history. At first, they had all been eating in an uncomfortably oppressive silence and the witch swore she could feel her skin burn with the furtive glances she could not see but most certainly feel everyone was giving her. The quietude had been broken when Dawn suddenly brought it upon herself to regale them with a funny story that she had heard at school.

Willow had not really been listening, something about the lunchmeat in the cafeteria and missing class pets but everyone had laughed. It was a tense, forced kind of laughter, but it had broken the somber mood. Conversation had begun to flow more easily after that, and the Wicca could almost trick herself into thinking things were back to normal if it had not been for the fact that conversation had rarely been directed at her. Not that she had minded much, having tuned them all out with a self-deprecating sigh.

Several topic changes later, they had been discussing the finer points of poker when Anya had said the only word that would grab Willow's attention enough to realize that she was still on planet earth. Tara. It had been a harmless comment really, which was surprising, given the source. Something about how Tara had been teaching her how to pull off a bluff, the redhead couldn't have been sure since she had been completely uninterested in her surroundings until the utterance of the two syllables that could simultaneously make her soul soar and her heart break.

Until that point, she had been concentrating with every fiber of her being on pushing her uneaten lasagna around her plate, but of course, the mention of Tara had immediately peaked her interest so she had glanced up in interest only to find that everyone was staring at her as if trying to gauge her reaction. Anya had her hands firmly clamped over her mouth as if she had suddenly realized her faux pas. That was the first time she had ever seen _the look_ from Buffy.

Buffy had looked worried. No, Buffy had looked scared; as if the mere mention of her dead lover was enough to turn the witch back into the grief-filled demon she had been working so tirelessly to quell.

"You're not going to go all veiny and stuff on us again, are you?" Anya had asked finally, having removed her hands from her face. She had broken the silence, but not the awkward tension that had felt like a repressive humid wind. The tension had literally made her feel dirty so Willow had closed her eyes and attempted to focus on her breathing, if only to have kept herself from crying. She had vaguely registered Buffy's voice as she had hissed out Anya's name, but the damage had already been done. Everyone had been afraid of her.

When she had finally opened her eyes, the terrified stares had turned hard and for a moment, she had been fearful that her eyes had turned black, they had all looked ready to jump from the table and do battle with her at moments notice. The lump in her throat had threatened to cut off all breathable air and choke her, and she had very nearly done just that. She could have taken it from Anya of course, she had understood about Dawn, but she had always thought that if Xander had not been on her side, at least she would have had Buffy. She had not been able to take another second at the table; the room had suddenly felt hot and crowded.

She had sighed heavily and excused herself from the table to trudge dourly upstairs. From that moment, she had known that no matter how much she or anyone else wanted it to be so, no matter how much Buffy had pretended it would be, nothing would ever be the same between them. She had been fooling herself to think that she would have been forgiven just because of what had happened with Angel.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, Willow gave the room a morose sob, wiping furiously at her eyes in case the tears there intended to spill over before leaving the room.

"_Angel had killed because that was in his nature as a demon_," she reasoned as she walked down the stairs. _"He didn't have a soul when he did those things_…_But I do. I have a soul and a conscience and that hadn't stopped anything." _And that was true. The joy she had felt while flaying Warren alive was something that still made her ill to think about and the only regret that she had about it was that it had been far too quickly and she had been far too merciful.

Giles had assured her that they all just needed time. So Willow had waited. Willow had waited for months on end but nothing had changed. Even now she felt like Buffy only allowed her to stay in the house as some sort of obligation to the what little of vestiges of their friendship they had left. She was struck suddenly by the phrase 'keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.' Maybe Buffy was just trying to keep an eye on her.

Unlocking the door to her car, the witch slid her hand into the pocket of her blue jeans to make sure the scrap of notebook paper was still there. Comforted by the folded square, she started the car and went over everything in her head one more time. She knew the plan backwards and forwards, but alternate realities were a delicate matter and the very last thing she wanted was to screw it up and end up in a hell dimension, or worse yet, the one her vampire self came from.

All she needed now were the last few ingredients. The constellations were in perfect alignment, the planets were in precise rotation and no one knew what she was planning. It wasn't as if she went out of her way to hide her plans, just the other day she had had various notes and books on the matter spread out on her bed while she had been grocery shopping, it was just that no one hardly gave her a second thought these days.

"_Like you deserve it."_ She reminded herself bitterly, gripping the wheel tighter and gnawing on her lower lip. _"It doesn't matter anymore, remember? I'm going to make everything right soon."_

*

"The Energumen Eye, Master." The voice came from somewhere to his left and it sounded like decay.

The sound brought a smile to his thin pale lips as he replied.

"Ah, Asmodeus!" his own voice sounded pleasant enough, containing the slight accent that came with properly enunciating words. He turned a thoughtful gaze on the demon next to him who only bowed lower, the small black horns lining the top of his forehead hitting the marble floor with a soft clink. He watched as Asmodeus thrust his gnarled red hands upwards above his head, clutching something carefully in his fists. The sleeves of the plain brown robes he wore slid backwards towards his shoulders revealing that every inch of his skin was the same garnet color as his large hands. "Let's see it then."

The demon opened his hands to reveal a delicate silver chain with a quarter sized talisman attached to it. Carefully, he took the necklace from his underling and held it up to the dying light near the window, which looked out upon the expanse of the hell dimension he lived in. The gem in the amulet caught the waning reddish light of the sun and a spectrum of green and white played over his face, making him smile even more, but the light was swallowed completely in his obsidian eyes.

"Lord Eurynomus?" the ruddy demon questioned, not daring to lift his gaze.

Eurynomus heaved a great sigh as if he was feeling extremely inconvenienced and ran a delicate snow-white hand through his hair that was equally as black as his eyes.

"Get up, Asmodeus." He said, his tone showing his slight irritation.

Asmodeus raised his intense yellow glare up from the white and grey marble and stood up, stretching to his full six and a half feet before hunching himself over a few inches to make himself smaller than his master.

"Will it work, Master?" he rasped after a few moments of watching Eurynomus delight in the trinket.

The pale demon appeared to contemplate the question seriously before slipping the item into the coat pocket of his black suit and hummed thoughtfully, starting to walk down the column-laden hallway.

"Honestly, I haven't the faintest idea. However, like you, I do as I am told and we have very specific orders. At any rate, the risk is worth it. Our Great Lord, our Malevolent Creator wants her back desperately. We _all_ want her back desperately, don't we?" he gave an encouraging smile to the demon, showing off two rows of perfectly white, pointed teeth.

It was more of a statement than a question, but Asmodeus nodded vigorously, grinning back the best he could but it looked more like a snarl. "Of course, my Lord, _desperately_."

The answer seemed to satisfy the pale demon, as he nodded slightly to his companion in the same manner a parent does when asking their child an easy question and beckoned him further down the hallway.

*

When Willow walked into the Magic Box a few evenings later, she was not in the least bit surprised to see Xander and Buffy huddled over a book at the table off to the side. Neither was she surprised that they were talking in low whispers or at the anxious looks on both of their faces. What surprised her was when Xander called her over to the table, motioning for her to take the seat next to his, which she did after a moment of hesitation.

"Maybe you can make sense of this, Willow." He said once it was clear that she wasn't going to say anything.

"What's going on?" she asked curiously, trying to glance sideways at the leather bound book they were leafing through without looking like she was too interested.

"This." Buffy replied for him, flipping backwards a few pages and tapping on one of the pictures while simultaneously sliding the book across the table so Willow could take a better look.

"The Demon Link," the witch read out loud, her brow furrowing in concentration. "Also called the Energumen Eye is an enigma at best. The purpose of the talisman is shrouded in myth and hearsay. Some believe that ownership of the charm imbues the wearer with power over dark forces; others insist that it is a key to an unknown dimension. The stone itself has been said to contain the solidified essence of the First Evil, That Which Has No Name. The last sighting of the Energumen Eye was in 1100 A.D. when it was wrested away from Eurynomus, bringer of Death and Chaos, right hand to the Master of Evil. Nothing is known of the demon that took the eye or what happened to it…" she trailed off for a moment. "What has this got to do with anything?"

She looked to Xander for an answer first, but he was focusing a questioning eye at Buffy as if asking her if they were allowed to trust her yet. Turning to the blonde slayer for an answer to both questions, she found the blonde was gazing at her intently. Her eyes were narrowed and slightly unfocused, almost like she was looking past Willow by looking _through_ her. It was then she realized that Buffy was not looking at her at all. The Slayer was, and the redhead was being sized up. The revelation broke the witch's heart a little more but she forced herself to hold her stare and not fidget, reminding herself that everything would be different soon.

Buffy took a sharp breath suddenly; apparently, the decision made. Her eyes regained their clarity and she carefully pulled something out of her pocket and dropped it unceremoniously onto the table. Willow immediately recognized it as the Demon Link from the book and let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Her companions nodded in unison, not needing her to ask the question as she haltingly reached for the necklace to pick it up. The second she touched it, Willow felt a surge of power rush through her almost violently, making her eyes fly closed and her breath hitch.

"Leg fell asleep." She explained nervously at the curious stares once she opened her eyes. She genuinely wanted to help, but knew that that would be impossible if they knew that the amulet had given her a power rush, and rush it had. She felt as if the necklace had been made for her and her alone. The energy it released was intensely heavy and dark. It felt good. It felt too good. Carefully, she placed it back on the table, resisting the urge to keep in contact with it.

"Well, whatever it is," She said instead, thankful that her voice sounded normal and even. "it certainly gives me the heebies."

Buffy nodded her agreement. "I went out for early patrol tonight and this big red demon was snooping around near the house. It looked like he was…" she wrinkled her nose a few times. "_smelling_ something. So I made with the slayer antics," she clenched her fists as if that would help to illustrate the point. "but he got away so I chased him for a while and he dropped this. Didn't see where he went though, I turned a corner and poof, no more Clifford the big red demon."

"Big Red Demon?" Willow countered, thankful to not have to talk about the necklace for a moment. "Did he say anything?"

The slayer shook her head. "Notta word." She paled for a split second before a look of relief crossed her features. "He had a mouth though." She said quickly. "Yeah, big, big. Like six four or fiveish big." She raised her hands in the air and Willow thought it best not to say that she was gesturing about five inches off. "Creepy yellow eyes and spiny black horns on his forehead like eyebrows." She wiggled her fingers in front of her face for emphasis. "Didn't say a word though."

"Asmodeus." Another voce said suddenly, causing them all to turn around.

Anya had been busying herself with her two favorite activities: counting money and eavesdropping.

Xander scowled and folded his arms across his chest. "Now isn't the time to talk about classical music, Ahn." He informed her condescendingly.

"Not _Ama_deu_s_." She retorted, rolling her eyes. "As-mo-de-us."

Xander sunk into his chair and shrugged like it didn't matter. "Oh, well, I knew that…So what about this Amydois guy?"

Anya threw up her hands exasperatedly and addressed Buffy and Willow instead. Xander could be so thick sometimes. "I knew him back when I first started with the vengeance gig. He's never been much of a talker. Strong, silent and dumber than ol beady eyes over here." She ignored the brunette's indignant look. "He always had a thing for me you know? But I ask you; how are you supposed to kiss someone with horns all over their face? Plus you know red skin? Total turn off, it's just so off putting, he always looked sunburned! If you ask me…"

"Focus, Anya!" Buffy exclaimed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She could feel a very nasty headache coming on.

"Oh! Oh!" Willow interjected, her eyes wide with epiphany and flailing her arms like she was trying to answer a question in class.

"I'm afraid you've used up all your bathroom passes, Miss Rosenburg." Xander said, eyeing her sideways.

Embarrassed, she put her arms down and folded her hands in her lap. "I mean, the book said that some demon named Eurynomus had the Demon Link until another demon stole it from him. Maybe Asmodeus took it from him?"

"Wonderful, now I've got to fight off _two_ of these things?" Buffy rubbed her temples tenderly; it was definitely a very nasty headache. "But that still doesn't explain what it was doing lurking around the house."

"Maybe he wants us to get rid of Eurynomus so he wont have to?" the redhead offered.

"Unlikely." Anya snorted from the counter, neatly stacking the money according to denomination and serial number. "Eurynomus is Asmodeus' master. Asmodeus was _literally_ made to serve him. That dumb oaf would throw himself off a cliff before betraying Eurynomus."

"And the plot thickens." Xander muttered.

"Okay," Buffy spoke up, stopping the ministrations on her temples and putting her hands on the table. "lemme get this straight. The Inner Gooey…"

"Energumen Eye." the ex-ex-vengeance demon corrected.

"Right, that's what I said. Anyways, this Chewy Eyeball thing belongs to Eurynomus who is Asomdeus' boss and Asmodeus was at my house with this thing because…why? Early Christmas present for the slayer that has everything?"

"If Asmodeus was at your house, it's because Eurynomus wanted him there. That's another reason why it would have never worked out. It's like living at home with your controlling mother. That's _creepy_ and…"

"Well," Buffy interrupted. "I guess this means research. I'm gonna go home and check on Dawn and then head out for early patrol and see if I can find this Asmodeus and maybe interrogate him slayer style. Xander, you find out what you can about Asmodeus and Eurynomus here." The blonde trailed off for a moment, cocking her head to one side, lost in thought. "Willow." She said finally. "You take this weird necklace and see what you can find out about it."

Surprised, Willow tried to keep the grin off her face. She knew what this was, this was a test to see how she could handle herself, if she was good enough to be considered a first-string Scooby again. She nodded and Buffy gave her an almost friendly half smile before continuing.

"Anya, you can come with me since you know this guy personally."

Anya shook her head and held up her hands in front of her. "Oh no you don't! There's no way I'm going to help you irritate Eurynomus. Not even if you threatened me with bunnies."

"Suit yourself." The slayer shrugged, heading out the door.

Willow looked after her before suddenly remembering why she had come there in the first place. She had been so caught up in the moment that she almost forgot. _"Just a few more things."_ She watched Xander pull several books from a nearby shelf and spill them from his arms onto the table. _"It can wait for now. I should do this. That way, if I mess up plan A, this is where I'll come back and I'll need to have a plan B so I might as well take the chances I'm given."_

She carefully picked up the necklace from the table, put it in her pocket, making sure she was careful not to touch the gem, and ignored the warm tingle she felt on all her nerve endings. Telling Xander she was going to her car to get her laptop, she headed for the door. For now, Plan A could wait, right now, she had work to do.

* * *

**AN: **Okay, so that was chapter one...I'm kinda hesitant to post more til I get some reactions to this one, but worry not! I'm not the type to start a story and not finish it =)


	2. The Beginning of the End

Several hours later, Willow still knew next to nothing about the necklace and her eyes were feeling strained under the pressures of focusing on the bright glow of her computer screen for so long. Noticing her weary expression, Xander leaned back in his chair, holding the dusty vellum paged book he had been leafing through for the better part of an hour and obligingly suggested that she go home and get some rest. Nodding gratefully, she packed up her computer, her notebook that only had a few lines scribbled into it, and made for the door with a half hearted wave to Anya who was polishing a crystal ball and pretending that she was most certainly was not helping Xander by looking through a book left open on the counter.

"Will…" Xander called after her softly, causing her to pause.

She felt silly for it, but Willow could not help the up rise of tears that almost immediately obscured her vision into watery, deformed representations. He had not called her that since before she had left for England. Turning around again, she smiled gracelessly, embarrassed that the term of endearment had very nearly made her cry.

Xander was smiling lopsidedly and had his arm extended, the Energumen Eye dangling from his fist. She had left it on the table deliberately, not wanting to overstep the unspoken boundaries set for her and unsure of how to ask if she should have taken it with her. Xander seemed to realize the intent behind her actions, judging from how his expression softened into something that hovered on the edge of sympathy.

Swallowing the lump in her throat that was just as much from her interaction with Xander as it was from the anticipation of touching that frightful necklace again; she took the object tentatively and nodded to him, somehow understanding that a conversation had taken place without either of them actually speaking. He dipped his head to her in reply and watched her leave the Magic Box before snapping his book shut and reaching through the resulting puff of dust for another.

*

The numerous papers that cluttered the top of the baby blue comforter crinkled softly as Willow shifted her weight to scratch a plaid pajama clad leg. She knew that she should have taken Xander's advice and gone straight to sleep once she got back, but there was too much work to do and not enough time. Everything for the spell was ready, the star-chart in her hand reaffirmed that tomorrow would be the day. She collected her papers carefully and counterproductively dropped them on the floor near the head of the bed where they landed relatively in order with a soft rustle and warily regarded the necklace lying near her feet.

She had not learned much beyond what had been in the book Buffy and Xander showed her at the Magic Box. The more she looked at it, the more she wanted to put it on. It was as if the innocent looking green gemstone was calling out to her and she had found herself several times reaching for it unconsciously before pulling her hand back sharply.

_"Why does it effect me like this?"_ she wondered, pulling the amulet to her by the chain. It was clear that the delicate silver chain that held the gem had not originally been apart of the amulet as the necklace itself had no effect on her. Willow was beginning to doubt that the theory in the book about the Energumen Eye being a dimensional key was true. When she had inspected it at the shop, she had not seen any markings or symbols that would indicate there was something more to the gem. In fact, if it were not for the power that it gave off, it would have been a rather unremarkable stone.

In what little research she had accomplished, she found that some believed that the talisman drew evil to it, which the redhead had ruled out almost instantaneously. It been in her possession for the better part of the night and she had not encountered anything evil so far.

_"What else could it be?"_ she wondered thoughtfully, watching as the necklace twisted in a lazy circle as she held it in the air. _"There are only two explanations left. It's either a magical unknown or the other account in the book is right. Maybe you can control dark forces with it?"_

Willow knew logically that the latter could not be the case. After all, one cannot control dark energy with dark energy. She had had _that_ particular lesson drilled into her head while she was in England. Logically, she knew it could not be the case, but somehow she was leaning on that particular explanation. She wanted that to be the answer…or more exactly, the necklace wanted that to be her answer. If it could be used to _control_ evil, she would not have any qualms about putting it on. When it had been clear that she would not find out much information on the amulet, she had switched gears and instead tried to focus on a way to destroy it, which of course, also proved to be a fruitless search.

Ignoring how the gem made her skin feel flush, she held it up to the light for inspection, looking for flaws to exploit. Instead, with the light shining behind it, all she could see was endless green. The gem began to split the light into shades of green and white that played across her face and she swear she could feel each individual point of light that touched her, like a feather soft caress.

_"Odd."_ She mused, feeling her gaze relax as she stared into the verdant depths. _"It's not a prism. It only emits green and white light. That doesn't…that doesn't make sense magically…green is a balancing color, change and growth."_

Change. That seemed important somehow. Change and growth. Balance. Balance…the more she looked at the talisman, the more she felt like she was losing hers. Even though she was sitting down, it was making Willow lightheaded and she was beginning to feel giddy with power.

_"Almost like when I went to Rack's."_ she realized suddenly, causing her to drop the necklace. It landed on the bed next to her with a soft thump, nestled on top of her blankets as if taunting her. _"Maybe it had been a bad idea to take this thing home…"_ she flung the odious thing off the bed with a quick shake of the comforter, which popped up in the air with a snap of cloth, launching the necklace across the room where it hit the door loudly and landed in front of it on the floor, unharmed.

Strange as the necklace was and as intrigued, disgusted and fearful she felt about it, there were far more important things than plan B. If everything went according to plan, by the time she came back to this timeline, Buffy probably would have never encountered Asmodeus to pick up the necklace in the first place. More importantly, Tara would be there and if the necklace was still an issue then, Willow just knew that the blonde would know what to do about it. Tara had always had a quiet strength about her that calmed the redhead like magic every single time. She turned off the light and smiled to herself, allowing the excitement to rush through her for a moment.

_"Tara…" _she sighed mentally, gazing at the full near full moon casting blue light into the room. Tomorrow suddenly seemed so soon and not for the first time, Willow doubted herself. What if she had done something wrong, or misread the spell? What would happen if she was denied? Her eyes grew wide and she glanced at the angled shadows around the room as if they somehow had the answers. She had not even made a plan for that circumstance. It had never crossed her mind that she might be denied the one thing she wanted most in life. The room, silent as ever, refused to answer as she shakily slid under the covers and pulled them up to her neck.

_"Calm down, Rosenburg." _She chided herself, stifling a yawn. _"Nothing is going to go wrong. I'm prepared, I've gone over everything a hundred times…I can do this." _She repeated that over and over until one word ran into the next and she was finally asleep.

*

Eurynomus glanced up from his hiding spot in the corner of the room and smiled as he peered over the pages of his unread book. Pulling down on the bowler hat upon his head, the waxen demon watched the two people standing at the bar in front of him talk in hushed voices. He could eavesdrop if he wanted, but Eurynomus prided himself on his sense of class and skewed propriety. In his opinion, being the emissary of the First Evil meant you had to carry yourself with some dignity. He was not just some worthless, uncouth bloodsucker or low-level demon. He was Lord Eurynomus; Eater of Flesh, Prince of Vultures, Bringer of Death, Master of Chaos and Guardian of Darkness. His titles alone demanded he keep an atmosphere about him fitting of the right hand of True Evil.

Thinking himself gentlemanly, he continued to spy on the two humans talking without prying into the conversation. Judging from the looks the man was giving to the woman in front of him, everything was going swimmingly. The man was gesturing something with his hands and a viciously wicked smile was curling up the corners of the woman's mouth as she nodded her head enthusiastically.

The pale demon could not help but grin to himself. It warmed the cold black pit in his chest he often referred to as his heart to see expressions like that. There was hardly anything that thrilled him more than seeing unadulterated evil on a beautiful woman's face. Especially when one looked as angelic as that one in the interim. Her eyes flashed black for a moment as she laughed and he could not help but allow a shiver of anticipatory jubilance creep up his spine and shake his shoulders slightly. She would make a fine consort, the Master had been right as always. He had never met the woman before, but the Master Himself had told him of her viciousness. Eurynomus could feel the darkness radiating from her, even from that distance. He watched as the woman gave a final nod and left the bar, drawing the bleary gaze of the drunken sots dotting the place after her.

"What do you think, my Lord?" the man asked as he approached Euynomus' table, offering a bow in supplication before sliding into the chair across from him.

The demon closed the book and gracefully folded his hands on top of it before replying. "She's resplendently dark of course, just as my Master said. Hell will have its Queen again, Maxwell, to be sure. I am most pleased." He proved his point by offering what he believed to be a radiant smile. "You are sure that she isn't aware of the finer details of the plan?"

His companion nodded. "Of course not, my Lord." He hesitated for a moment before continuing, his tone already apologetic. "Master, if I may be so bold…why can't we tell her of the whole plan?"

"Maxwell, you are my most devoted acolyte among your pitifully weak species and that affords you a certain amount of my indulgence, but I'm afraid that isn't something you need the answer to." Truthfully, the Master had not spoken of the reason to Eurynomus himself and he knew better than to question any order given to him. It was just as much a mystery to him as it was to the human in front of him but that was no reason to shake the man's faith in his malignancy.

Maxwell dropped his gaze to the tabletop immediately. "Of course, my Lord, my apologies."

"No need for groveling tonight, dear boy!" He lifted a delicate looking hand in the air and snapped his fingers a few times, satisfied when the bartender nodded his head quickly and set about pouring a thick red liquid into a glass. "Tonight is for celebration. I invite you to drink with me, tell me all about her."

Surprise clear on his face, he nodded emphatically. While it was true that the shaggy haired Maxwell was Erynomus' favorite worshipper among humans; the alabaster prince also wanted the chance to find out anything he could about the woman who had just left without asking his maker directly. One could never be sure if the Master was in the good graces to humor even Eurynomus, his most treasured creation.

Most other demons had been created to strike terror through physical appearance and sheer barbaric violence. Eurynomus was unique in his elegance. He had an undeniable aristocratic air about him, which lulled those around him into a sense of safety. Of course, he could rip out internal organs with the best of them, he fancied that he was at least twice as evil as all the other demons put together and he had not gotten the titles of "Eater of Flesh" or "Bringer of Death" for nothing. What set Eurynomus apart from other demons was his ability to draw others to him and ultimately, to the Master. For that, he sat above all others in the demon world and he was beyond reproach except for from the First Evil himself.

The bartender quickly placed two clear glasses of the red liquid he had been pouring in front of each of them, keeping his eyes downcast as he stumbled backwards towards the bar counter. The pale demon watched him with amusement under an arched eyebrow before taking a sip from his glass with all the gentility and flourish of a king at court, not bothering to tell his sycophant that the liquid was blood.

The warning had been unnecessary, as Maxwell had grown accustomed to drinking blood from any number of humans or demons in Eurynomus' presence. He brought his gaze up from the dark liquid slipping slowly back down the sides of his glass and smiled softly. Young human blood was his favorite.

"So tell me about the consort."

"She is perfect in all things, my Lord." He glanced towards the door though the woman was long gone. "The Great Master made the right choice, as usual."

Something in the way he had said 'perfect,' and how intently he fixated his gaze on the door for a moment too long did not sit well with Eurynomus. He cleared his throat with displeasure, causing the human to turn his attention back to his Lord.

"Do not even entertain the idea, Maxwell. She is _not_ for you."

"Of course not, my Lord." He mumbled, having the good grace to look ashamed.

Eurynomus nodded. "See to it that you remember that, Maxwell. I would hate to have to disembowel you when you have been doing _so_ well. Since the Master has chosen her as the consort, it will only be a matter of time before you are addressing her as _my Lady_ and believe me when I say that you _never_ want me, or anyone else for that matter, catching you with such an obvious countenance of…" It almost pained him to say the next word but he swallowed thickly and tried not to retch as he uttered it. "…Love, directed at your queen."

"Yes, Master." He responded almost sorrowfully. "I understand."

The ivory demon understood the concept perfectly well. He himself loved all manner of things. Murder, lies, treachery, the blind loyalty in his followers, and he could even admit he had a certain fondness for Asmodeus. Romantic, mortal love, he could not understand and the very idea sickened him. His Master had explained to him the evils the emotion carried with it even though mortals believed it to be a 'pure' and 'good' desire. He could even say he loved that side of the emotion; the agitation, despair, lust, lies and lunacy it often caused. What he did not understand was the driving need for mortals and even some demons to experience the emotion instead of exploiting it.

While he would readily admit not having a full comprehension of love, he understood it enough to know what had to happen and his Master had made it clear that the whole plan pivoted on love. He needed to maintain the delicate balance meticulously to keep the plan running smoothly and Maxwell's…_attraction_ would not be tolerated. The expression on his companions face showed that he understood his role perfectly well and would suffer silently with his unrequited weakness.

Euynomus smiled pleasantly. Although the human was his favorite, he still delighted in the pain of others. After all, he had always made it a point to stop and appreciate darkness in all its glorious manifestations. On the other hand, Maxwell had given him many years of faithful service that he had to take into account. Perhaps he would present him with a woman of his own, if only to keep the mortals mind off the consort. He really would hate to have to disembowel the man.

*

Willow had woken up well before the sun, a lump of nervousness weighing heavy in her stomach. When she had gotten out of bed, she had set out everything that she would need for the spell, which wasted all of five minutes, so she was left with hours of nothing to do but wait. Theoretically, she could have started the spell at any time and had originally planned to do it early in the morning to minimize any interruptions but she only had one opportunity to do this. The star-charts she had been studying for the better part of six months declared that the best time to start was around noon.

Every one of her nerves was on edge. After rechecking everything fourteen times and changing her clothes three times, she glanced over at the clock, simultaneously relieved and apprehensive that the digital display read a quarter to twelve. It was time. She pulled out the small cast iron cauldron she had been keeping under her bed along with a mini oak chest. Resting her weight on her knees, she placed six white pillar candles in a circle around her before opening the chest and pulling out a large vial of oil that she had been working on for weeks.

Willow anointed each of the candles with the oil before lighting them and placing them back on the floor around her. She held them in her left hand, dipping the index finger of her right hand into the oil and dabbing some off on her thumb before tracing a lubricious line from the top to the center and then from the bottom to the center before moving onto the next one.

After finishing this, she sat back on her knees to center herself for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves and steel her resolve before dumping the rest of the oil into the cauldron and allowing her hands to hover palms down over the top.

"Inflammo." She said firmly and immediately, the oil in the cauldron began to bubble, releasing a pleasant smell into the room as it boiled. She dropped the herbs she had been collecting from the Magic Box in one at a time, ticking them off in her head. Lemon balm for success, dandelion for calling spirits and wishes, belladonna for projection, comfrey for travel and a little dragons blood for potency, all of it went into the boiling oil where it was consumed immediately with a flash of blue flame.

"Moirae," she began; her tone much more confident than she felt. "Daughters of Nyx, Rulers of Fate, please grant me an audience. Sister Fates who cause even the Gods themselves to tremble, I beseech you. Hear my pleas, Clotho, She spins the threads of our mortality into existence. I beseech you. Take pity upon me, Lachesis, She who knows our end and rules our destiny. I beseech you. Answer my pitiful cries, Atropos, She who cuts the threads our existence. I beseech you. I come to you unworthy but with pure intentions. I implore you to accept my humble offer."

Closing her eyes in anticipation, Willow put her offering into the cauldron, biting her lip almost to the point of bleeding as the bubbling oil engulfed her right hand, burning away the flesh. Tears streamed from her face, but she refused to make a sound, afraid that she would be mistaken as insincere. She was not sure if it was the pain or the spell, but she suddenly felt woozy. With her head reeling and vision blurring, Willow withdrew her hand from the cauldron and covered her nose with her uninjured one, the once pleasant smell of the oil was now all around her, filling up her lungs and making her gasp for air. She gulped repeatedly, wheezing heavily as she struggled for breath. The air felt like syrup clogging her nostrils and throat.

"_I've failed." _ She anguished as the world began to fade into blackness. _"I've failed you Tara! I've failed."_ Willow welcomed the murky unconsciousness that was taking over and she slumped to the floor like a rag doll, the cauldron settling down immediately as soon as she hit the floor.


	3. The Moirae

**AN: **I tried to work in a description of a Doric chiton, but every time I tried, it just felt totally unnatural to the rest of the paragraph. If you're wondering what they look like, the wiki got it covered =) .org/wiki/Chiton_(costume)

The first thing she was aware of was that she could breathe. It was amazing really, Willow had taken for granted the simple fact that she made oxygen into carbon dioxide until she was no longer able to, but now, she could breathe. The second thing she became aware of was that she was certainly _not_ at 1630 Revello Drive. Even with her eyes closed, she knew something was different. Something was off. The plush carpet that had broken her fall had been replaced by something smooth and cool, possibly marble and she could feel a slight breeze wafting over her from somewhere to her right.

Opening her eyes slowly, she sat up and realized that she had indeed been lying on a smooth grey and white marble floor. There were huge white ionic columns lining the sides of the room which gave way to the open air door in front of her through which she could see a rocky dirt path lined with cypress trees reaching up to the clear blue heavens. Eyes wide, she stood up and examined her surroundings with a more critical eye. She had to be in a temple. The spell had worked. Elation zipped through her, making her shudder momentarily before she felt a presence behind her and whirled around.

Behind her stood three women, all dressed in white Doric chitons tied around the waist with colored cords. The first woman was tall and had a slightly homely, matronly face and round, ample body. Her blonde hair piled on top of her head underneath a long white shawl. She gave Willow a motherly smile and nodded her head, tightening the black and gold cord around her waist. The woman in the middle was shorter and thinner, her raven hair tied back with a purple ribbon that matched the cord at her waist. Her skin was olive and her face alluring. She gave Willow a slight smile, holding up one hand in a way of greeting. The woman on the end was nothing more then a child of perhaps twelve; her brown hair hung wild about her shoulders and she waved brightly at Willow, the red cord at her waist matching the perpetual blush on her cheeks.

"The Moirae…" Willow spoke needlessly, bowing at the waist in supplication. As she clasped her hands together, she noticed that the hand she had plunged into the boiling oil was healed, no evidence of the painful ordeal visible on her hand or arm.

"We could not leave you with your skin hanging off like that, Willow." The small girl said in Greek, wrinkling her nose at the memory of the blistered burns on the witch's hand and forearm.

"I…" the witch started, unsure how to continue. "Thank you, Clotho."

The girl looked certifiably pleased with herself. "There's no need for that. You made a personal sacrifice. That is the only way to reach us or this temple."

"You want to know what can be done." The woman in the middle, Lachesis, said softly. "About your lover."

Willow swallowed with a little difficulty, nodded her head, watching as Lachesis smiled knowingly, and went over to a tall marble altar she had not noticed before that had a large ornately carved golden box atop it. "You had asked the wrong one before, child." She said with her back turned towards the witch. "Osiris governs the dead, it's true, but he cares not for the affairs of the living."

She pulled out two chords from the gilded box, each about two feet long. The first was bright glowing silver but partway down; the thread went completely black for about two inches and then gave way to the silver again, with the black thread woven throughout it. The second was an intense gold and was almost painful to look at but Willow could not see all of it as Lachesis was holding quite a bit of it bunched up in her fist.

"Do you recognize this one, Willow?" the matronly woman, Atropos, asked, taking the silver thread from her sister. The eldest Moirae grinned tenderly as the red haired witch shook her head. "This is yours, my child. Your destiny is written upon this cordage."

Willow looked away in shame at the black thread woven throughout her life's cord, instead turning her attention to Lachesis who held the golden thread. "And the gold one?"

"The one you came here for." Clotho provided when Atropos did not reply. "Tara." The redhead gasped loudly and was about to inquire about the length of the thread as Lachesis clearly had more of it palmed away, but Clotho seemed to have anticipated the question. "You see, Willow, Osiris told you that he could not bring Tara back, but he had not been completely honest with you."

"I cut every thread of every mortal and otherwise that meets its end." Atropos provided. "I never cut Tara's thread. Nor had I intended to when she had been shot."

Willow felt woozy and pressed her fingers to her temples. When she had performed the spell, she had been thinking only of asking The Fates to send her back to that horrible day so she could stop Tara from being shot. She could not wrap her mind around this new development. They had buried her, hadn't they? The memory of Tara's death would be etched into her brain forever.

"I suppose, in a way, she _had_ died." Atropos provided as Clotho helped the lightheaded Wicca sit in a marble throne near the altar. "Her body at any rate…I _had_ hoped you would have come to us first instead of _Osiris_, but how were you to know that I had not cut her thread? Unfortunately, because you had not come to us first, we had to…place her elsewhere."

"What…what do you mean by that?" Willow asked meekly, sure that she was going to pass out.

"We couldn't very well put her back in your dimension, not after the way you…handled things." Clotho provided, laying a comforting hand on the witch's shoulder. "It really wasn't your fault though, Willow. You mustn't blame yourself. Everything is part of a larger plan."

"Clotho." Lachesis said sternly, causing the youngest of The Fates to turn her head away, her permanent blush deepening. "We will help you, Willow. You have risked much coming to our dimension and we see that you have indeed changed. We will send you to the dimension she is in now, but Willow…she will not know you. Being ripped from your earthly body has a horrible effect on the soul. You _must_ remember that she may not be the Tara that you remember."

Willow nodded. She did not care about something as trivial as that. All that mattered was that Tara was alive somewhere in the mutliverses and she was going to bring her home. She _had_ to. If Tara's soul did not depend on it, Willow was sure hers did. The Moirae suddenly and simultaneously tilted their heads to the side as if hearing something from far away.

"Will that do? We had not planned on intruders." Clotho asked her sisters curiously.

Lachesis nodded. "Yes, Willow will need all the help she can get. We will send the other also."

Willow was on the verge of asking what was going on, but Atropos cut her off before she even opened her mouth. "Just remember, Willow, you are stronger than you realize. Remember everything we've said, wont you?"

The redhead nodded dumbly as Lachesis waved her arm broadly at the front of the temple. The outside scenery immediately distorted into a portal of bright purple and white light, swirling and crackling with energy. Though she shuffled her feet in the direction of the gateway, it seemed as if she had no need to walk towards it as it tugged and prodded her into its depths. It was not until Willow was gone with a loud sucking sound and the scenery outside had returned that Lachesis spoke. She dropped the remainder of the golden thread from her hand but unlike the rest of the cord, it was pitch black.

"I do wish we could have told her more." She said softly, looking at her sisters who nodded in agreement.

"You know better than any of us the dangers of telling mortals their destinies." Atropos warned. "Now come, we have to prepare the way for Buffy as well. They both have things that need to be done."

*

When Buffy got home from patrol that night, the house had been dark except for a lone light coming from the kitchen. Her search for Asmodeus proved to be fruitless; it was if the demon had never existed. Xander had not turned anything useful up in his search either except for finding out Euynomus was something of a courtier to the First Evil. Sighing heavily as she shuffled to the kitchen, she was surprised that Dawn was up and reading a magazine over a mixing bowl full of cereal.

"Why aren't you in bed?" the blonde asked, snatching away the spoon from her sister and helping herself to the bowl.

Dawn scowled and tried unsuccessfully to snatch the spoon back from her sister before giving up and sliding out of her chair to pull another one from the drawer. "Couldn't sleep." She answered, hopping back into the chair and digging her spoon into the now quite soggy rice krispies. "How'd the big red demon thing go?"

Buffy shrugged noncommittally. "Kinda at a loss, honestly. I'm about to go upstairs and see how Willow was doing with that necklace. Hopefully that worked out better than the big fat nothing me and Xander found."

The youngest Summers furrowed her brow at the mention of the witch. "I don't know why _she_ had to get involved." She muttered, gazing fixedly at the milky sugar on her spoon that she had dug out of the bottom of the bowl.

The blonde's expression softened a little and she brushed back some of Dawn's hair from her face, chuckling softly at the perturbed expression the brunette made in response. "I know you're not comfortable with it, and truthfully, even I have my doubts but…I've got to give her a chance sooner or later and you do too."

"Yeah, whatever." Was the reply, but Dawn nodded her head and got off her chair. "Just don't say I didn't tell you so when she goes all veiny on you."

"Dawn!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, _time for bed, Dawn_"

"You got it kid." Buffy watched her sister leave the kitchen, mumbling something to herself before dumping the bowl and the remainder of the overly sugary cereal into the sink. As much as she wanted to act like the grown up, she could not help but worry about how well Willow had actually learned to contain her dark side. She supposed that this was a good a time as any to find out how much the witch had truly changed. Flipping off the kitchen light, she decided to head upstairs to check on Willow's progress, making her way through the dark of the house.

When she got upstairs, the first thing she noticed was that there was no light shining through the cracks in the door. It was after one in the morning, it was possible that Willow had gone to bed. Shrugging and deciding to risk it, she knocked softly on the door. Hearing no answer, she pressed her ear to the door and heard nothing but an odd low-pitched hum. Curious, Buffy pushed open the door, noticing the loud 'clink' of something hitting the bottom of the door as she did so. Picking up the object from the floor, she noticed that it was the Energumen Eye. What had it been doing on the floor?

"Willow?" she called softly into the dark room. "Are you awake?"

Only the continuous low drone coming from near the middle of the room greeted her. Glancing quickly at the bed, she noticed that it was made and looked like it had not been slept in recently. Buffy pocketed the necklace and made her way towards the middle of the room, choking back her surprise. The remnants of what had to have been a spell were laid out on the floor in a circle, at the center of which was a pot of some cold sweet smelling oil.

_"Calm down, Buffy." _She chided herself mentally. _"Maybe she was doing the spell to find out about the necklace. My spidey senses would be going crazy if there were something evil about all this, right?"_ she nodded her head firmly. _"Right. I'll just wait for her to get back and I'm sure she'll have an explanation for all this."_

Satisfied, Buffy started for a chair on the other side of the circle, walking through the part of the floor where the spell was laid out to get to it. The second she stepped a foot into the circle, she disappeared with a fantastic flash of white and purple light, leaving the room silent and empty once more.

**AN: **Sorry about the cliffhangers, but I'm trying to keep all my chapters at about six pages, otherwise they'll be _terribly_ long.


	4. The Consort

The alley Willow was standing in was a dead end. Dark chipped bricks formed a wall behind her, where the portal had landed her. It seemed to have been raining recently as the pavement under her sneakers was wet and the garbage-filled potholes had become little brown lakes dotted with islands of old fast food bags, dated newspapers and a few syringes. Directly overhead, a pregnant moon hung much lower in the sky than in Willow's own dimension, bouncing white light off the ground and scattering around the alley lending it an eerie daytime quality.

Glancing briefly behind her, the redhead smiled and straightened her black jean jacket before taking her first tentative steps into this new world. With every movement forward, her heart began to beat faster.

_"Tara's here. Tara's here. Tara's here." _ She thought as her feet slapped a soft cadence onto the asphalt in time with her new mantra. She was a little worried that The Fates had not told her where exactly Tara could be found, or what condition this new dimension was in, but all of that seemed secondary to Tara being _alive_.

The redhead allowed the reality of the situation to sink in a little more as she slowed her pace, which had been bordering on jogging. She had no idea where she was going. Taking in her surroundings more fully, she stood on the sidewalk underneath a street lamp casting a dusky orange glow, which seemed unnecessary when compared with the bright glow of the moon. The alley had opened up onto the main street in which she now stood. Small shops with living quarters added above them lined the sidewalks, opening up into a new alley with every division of the buildings.

There were several people out shopping or just enjoying an evening stroll who hardly gave her noticed, for which she was thankful. Looking down at her black jeans and green shirt, Willow was thankful she had decided to wear dark colors before the spell. Apparently, people in this dimension were not fond of brighter colors. Wherever she was, it had to have been another of the countless alternate Sunnydales as the street names and layouts were familiar to her. She wondered briefly if there was another version of her wandering about too.

As if looking for an answer to that, she searched the faces around her, half hoping and half dreading to spot someone familiar, but there was no one. She wondered how long she would have in this nameless place, The Moirae had not been clear. Willow figured she might as well find a place to stay or even a job. The logistics of her situation suddenly came crashing down into her sphere of reality.

_"Surely The Fates would have said if I were on a time crunch…" _the witch mused as she picked a direction and went with it. _"I wish I had brought some clothes or something. I can't believe I was so impractical about what would actually happen with the spell that I hadn't planned for this." _ Really, scolding herself was just a way to keep the nervous jitter out of her step, her stomach felt like it was tied into a labyrinth of twisted knots.

Willow was so far into her own little world that she had not seen a young man rounding the corner the same time as she approached it and ran smack into him with a soft oomph, throwing off her almost jog momentum and knocking her backwards and onto the sidewalk.

"Ohmygosh, sorry! I'm sorry!" the redhead started, eyes wide as she scrambled to see if the young man was hurt.

The man, who was a good four inches taller than Willow and she caught herself thinking that he would be considered attractive by most standards. He had shaggy shoulder-length brown hair tied into a ponytail at the nape of his neck and a well-trimmed patch of hair underneath his bottom lip. Chocolate colored eyes that she would have probably described as 'puppyish' twinkled in mirth above an impish smile. He was nicely dressed, as if he had just gotten out of some kind of meeting but the untucked state of his white dress shirt beneath the black blazer he wore belied the notion that he was dressed up for something. He stuck out his hand in an offer to help Willow back to her feet, which she took gratefully, and with minimal redness of face.

"I'm afraid I should be the one apologizing to you." He started, his voice genial enough. He shook the hand he held before allowing Willow to take it back. "Forgive me for my lack of manners, it isn't every day I knock a pretty woman off their feet. Maxwell Morton at your service."

Willow smiled and introduced herself. If nothing else, the man seemed very charming and might be able to at least help her find the location of a hotel. She just hoped her money was good here. His eyes lit up with something she did not recognized as she said her name and he gave her a courtly nod of his head.

"If I may say, Miss Rosenburg, I haven't seen you around our fair city before. Surely, I would have remembered _your_ face. Are you new to Sunnydale?"

Willow nodded and allowed herself to be led by a light touch at her elbow the way she had just come. "Yeah, you could say that. I just got in actually."

"Excellent! Might I interest you in accompanying me to the Bronze?" his tone, though sociable, brooked no objections and Willow followed him down the sidewalk. "It isn't much, I'm afraid, but you seem the sort who's looking for something particular. Maybe you'll find whatever it is while you're there. If not, I'd be more than happy to entertain you for the evening."

"Are you always this nice to total strangers?"

Maxwell laughed heartily, drawing a few looks from passerby. "Only when The Fates allow, Miss Rosenburg."

*

"Stupid middle of the woods." Buffy grumbled as she picked her way along the forest floor. Luckily, the full moon was enormous and made it relatively easy. "Couldn't have dropped me off at home? Or, wait, maybe I don't have a home here. Bummer." She kicked a large rock out of her way. "And now I'm talking to myself. Great. You're cracking, Summers. For real this time. Stupid Fates."

She stopped walking and lifted her head to the sky. "You hear me?" she shouted. "_Stupid_ Fates!" jamming her hands into her back pockets, she stomped along the tiny trail towards civilization. When she had unwittingly walked into the portal Willow had created, she had ended up in what she perceived to be ancient Greece. It was then that she had come face to face with The Moirae, who had explained that she was in their dimension. Of course, Buffy had been beyond angry. Why would Willow call on them just to ask about the necklace?

The slayer learned, however, that that had not been the case. They had all been very vague and mystically impressive, which she was sure, was how all Higher Beings were, but it never ceased to irritate her. They had told her that they needed to send her where Willow was going to help her save Tara's soul. Buffy was supposed to watch over Willow and make sure the redhead did not lose her own in the process.

"Whatever the hell _that's_ supposed to mean!" she mumbled, kicking up a cloud of dirt from the ground. The Fates had tried to explain the situation without telling the slayer more than was absolutely necessary but she still had no desire to go on this little errand. They would not let her back out of it though, even after she insisted that someone had to look after Dawn. The three sisters had airily dismissed her with a synchronous chuckle and told the blonde that her own dimension would be stagnant until all their tasks, whatever _those_ were, were completed. She had even gone so far as to remind them that Willow was perfectly able to take care of herself and had been doing just that for quite some time.

"She cannot control herself when it comes to Tara." The smallest one had said. What was her name? Cloth? Clothes? Buffy could not remember, but the girl had been right of course. Willow's magic got out of hand because she wanted to protect Tara, protect all of them and then when Tara was killed…or when they thought she had been killed, Willow spiraled out of control. For Willow, everything would always come back to Tara.

_"And when will I stop blaming her for that?"_ Buffy realized suddenly, causing her to stop in her tracks once more. She raised her eyes heavenward once more. "If you've slapped me in another dimension just for an after school moment, you can forget it!" She held her breath and waited for a moment, half expecting an answer, but when none came, she kept moving. She had to find Willow and finish this as soon as possible.

*

Eurynomus was watching her from a darkened corner of the room, delighting in what he saw. The woman Maxwell had been talking to several nights ago was standing on the opposite side of the bar, talking in a hushed voice to a brunette woman who was nodding nervously. The woman smiled comfortingly but her gaze was cold as she stroked the side of the brunette's face with one hand, bringing her other hand up to the other side of the woman's face. The brunette woman shuddered so hard that for a moment, Eurynomus was sure she was going to crumple to her feet in an unconscious pile, but the other woman held her up, whispering something into her ear, her eyes were pitch black.

The brunette nodded and smiled dreamily, reaching into her pocket as if in a trance and shoved a crumpled up wad of bills at the other woman. The taller of the two took the money with a smile and planted a kiss on the brunette's forehead before stepping back, allowing the woman to fall uncaring to her knees as the magical high rushed through her. She reached out towards the taller one who shook her head firmly after counting the money and slipping the now neatly folded bills into her back pocket, walked away from her without a backward glance.

With a majestic wave of his hand, he caught the woman's attention and beckoned her over to his table. He chuckled softly as she strode confidently over to him, the Master had been correct about her indeed. He stood politely as she approached and pulled out one of the chairs at his table for her, which she took with a slight nod.

"Are you aware of who I am?" he asked, taking his place next to her.

She cocked her head to the side but smiled. "Of course, my Lord. Everyone knows who you are."

"Ah yes, well it does my heart good to see you young people taking an interest."

"Of course, my Lord." She trained her blue gaze directly into his black one, no trace of fear evident on her face. "Forgive me, but what do you want from me? I'm not one of your followers."

He grinned and tisked his tongue, offering her a glass of the wine he was drinking. She checked the label on the bottle and sniffed its contents before verifying that it was wine and nodding her head, allowing the demon lord to pour some of the red liquid into an extra glass. Normally, such an action in anyone would have supplicated immediate retribution. After all, if Eurynomus asked someone to drink, his station demanded immediate and unquestioning compliance. However, _she_ was different and somehow, she noticed that.

He waited for her approval of the wine, which she gave after considering it on her palate for a moment before speaking. "Now, Tara. You haven't got to be one of my followers for me to take an interest in your work, now do you?"

"I suppose not." She agreed, pushing some her blonde hair out of her face. "It _is_ a little strange though. You've never taken an interest in me before."

He allowed himself to scoff and he waved his hand flippantly. "Nonsense my dear girl! Evil in all its many splendors requires my full interest."

She crinkled her brow slightly, and took another sip from the glass in front of her. "I'm not evil."

Eurynomus leaned closer and took a deep breath, returning upright as he exhaled. "No, I suppose you're not. Still, it clings to you with fervor and that interests me. At any rate, Maxwell seems to be quite taken with you." He wanted to gauge her reaction to that, as he did not fully trust Maxwell to keep his word about putting the consort out of his mind.

Tara wrinkled her nose distastefully causing the demon to chuckle and giving him the answer he needed.

"Well, Tara, you're wrong if you think I don't have an interest in you. Who do you think told our young Maxwell to give you that little _job_?"

The blonde shrugged, watching disinterestedly as the brunette she had given the high to convulsed on the floor, eyes rolled in the back of her head. "I suppose I hadn't really thought of it. A job is a job, after all. Besides, you know as well as I do how strange Maxwell is. For all I know, he just wanted me to help him nab a new plaything."

Eurynomus laughed, she had a good point. "No, my dear, not quite. He was clear in my instruction though, yes?"

"Yes, clear enough. He said he was going to point out a woman to me and when he did, I was to nurture her darkness."

"Did he tell you _why_?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment, trying to recollect, before shaking her head. "No. I asked why, but he said he didn't know."

"Because, dear girl, the woman whom he will point out has been chosen to be the Queen of Hell."

Tara was silent for a while, contemplating the information as she took small sips from her wine. The pale demon thought that perhaps, she was apathetic to the news, but when she looked up at him, he saw only confusion and a glimmer of something else that he could not quite place, but was not sure he liked the sight of. "Why me?"

He grinned his genteel best and refilled her glass. "Simply because you're you."


	5. Convolusion

Willow barely registered the different atmosphere of this dimensions version of the Bronze. She had not noticed the table in back where an eclectic mix of demons were engaged in a heated poker game, the soft mews coming from the picnic basket on their table were drowned out by the performing band on stage. She had not noticed, as Maxwell led her towards the bar, that a tall, ghastly pale man quietly but quickly led a blonde away from a table in the corner, whispering to her in a hushed voice as he guided her up the stairs and into the shadows of the balcony.

The only thing that Willow noticed as she entered the Bronze was the tingle at the nape of her neck that made her feel as if she should look around, but she resisted the urge. Instead, she concentrated on listening to Maxwell as he ushered her to an empty table, waving carelessly to a few of the patrons who had greeted him with what she perceived as a friendly, if not formal, nod.

"So what's brought you to our fair city?" Maxwell was saying, pulling out her chair for her and leaning in to hear her response.

"I'm looking for…" Willow started distractedly, having the presence of mind not to say _someone_. "Work."

Her companion smiled warmly and handed her one of the beers the bartender had brought to them unbidden. "I think I know of someplace that would suit you perfectly."

*

"That's her?" Tara asked quietly, watching as the redhead nodded her head emphatically at Maxwell. She felt strange, looking at the woman, as if she should know her from somewhere but could not quite place her. Her stomach felt odd, as if she were on a rollercoaster going downhill and had forgotten to lower the safety bar. The air in her lungs had rushed into her throat, making it difficult to swallow.

Eurynomus nodded his head gracefully and followed the blondes gaze, hearing her inhale sharply. "So what do you think, my dear?"

"I…sh-she's…" Tara trailed off seeming confused by her stutter and shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying to steady the not quite nauseous feeling and swallowed thickly. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears and was thankful for the darkness of the balcony. "She doesn't seem evil." She finished instead, hoping her voice sounded impartial.

Eurynomus gave her a stately nod of his head. "Neither do you."

"I'm _not_ evil."

The pallid demon hummed and dipped his head, both of them knowing that he was simply humoring her. "Not _yet_." He turned his attention to the blonde witch next to him. "Soon, Tara. Soon you will have powers unimaginable and incomparable to even myself."

Eurynomus took a moment to take in his own words. He thought he should have felt wounded at the prospect of not being the Master's favorite, but surprisingly, he was giddy with the anticipation of havoc. This dimension already belonged to darkness. Once Hell had its Queen again, there was no telling what plans the Master had for other dimensions. He felt honored to exist in such an exciting time. The Master Himself had told him that even the Slayer was no match for Willow's darkness. Once all semblance of humanity was washed out of her with Tara's help, there would be nothing to stop the torment that was to come.

Tara said nothing in response, but her approval was evident in the broad smile she gave him, her gaze returning to the first floor and the redhead at the bar.

*

Willow left the Bronze alone a few hours later, ignoring the feeling of someone watching her and with a better understanding of that version of Sunnydale. There was no mayor per say, but the town was run by a man Maxwell only referred to as 'Uri.' The reason why everyone seemed to know the brown-eyed brunette was because Maxwell was the assistant to Uri and he took an interest in every new person that showed up in town, Willow being no exception. After a particularly lengthy conversation about magic and the supernatural, Maxwell insisted that she start working at the occult shop he owned a few blocks away from a hotel that he pulled enough weight at to provide her free room and board.

At first, it was odd that Maxwell was so accommodating and truthfully, it made her more than a little apprehensive, but she chalked it up to the Fates helping her out once more and freeing her up to look for Tara. Checking the directions to the hotel her newfound friend had scrawled messily onto a paper napkin, Willow rounded the corner to run into someone yet again, knocking the redhead to the ground a second time.

"This is ridiculous." She let out under her breath as she gingerly rubbed her lower back and got up to apologize once more to someone she had bumped into. Her wide-eyed shock at who she had run into could not be contained and she let out a loud gasp, her hands flying to her face. "B-Buffy?" she whispered, not quite believing what she was seeing.

Sure enough, the blonde Slayer was checking herself over for any rumpling of clothes that might have occurred from the collision, not looking at the redhead. Willow let out bated breath and had very nearly convinced herself that the Buffy in front of her was not the one she really knew, when the Slayer looked up and gave a remarkable and devastatingly accurate rendition of Willow's astonished expression.

"Willow!" the blonde shouted, her expression quickly turning into one of exasperation. The large moon shadowed part of her face, causing the redhead to shiver slightly at the breeze of terror that wafted over her and made her skin prickle into goose bumps.

"I-I-um, do I know you?" The redhead tried, immediately cringing at her pathetic attempt.

Buffy was not amused. "What the _hell_ is going on here?" she fumed, placing her hands on her hips authoritatively, everything the Moirae had told her left at the wayside in favor of anger. "And _no_ lies, Willow."

"I…uh…" Willow slumped her shoulders in defeat and started walking down the street again. "Come on, I'll explain everything on the way."

*

Buffy was pacing the room of Willow's suite thoughtfully, trying her best not to look like she was stalking back and forth, though she was sure she was wearing a footpath into the floor. The redhead was sitting on the large bed looking glumly at her folded hands, which were laying limp in her lap. She looked like she was about to hear that she was getting the death sentence for a crime she did not commit.

The Slayer had yet to explain her side of the story completely, but something held her back from telling her former best friend everything that the Moirae had said to her for some reason. It seemed important to her that Willow did not know that she had been charged with saving the Wicca's soul. She had been deep in thought for the last twenty minutes after Willow had told her side, just pacing back and forth on the plush carpet that reminded her of a fluffy version of an airport floor, chewing thoughtfully on a thumbnail. She was convinced that like her, Willow was leaving important parts out and she was trying to figure out if there was any information that she needed that had not been told to her.

Sighing, Buffy wished that she kept a bottle of painkillers on her, and not for the first time. She glanced over at the witch and tried not to be moved by the silent tears spilling over her cheeks and into her hands. Wrinkling her forehead, Buffy remembered that the Fates had entrusted her with an important task and that was what was truly important. She knelt down next to the grey and pink print bed and waited for the redhead to glance at her, which she did surreptitiously from the corner of her eyes before looking away quickly.

"So what are you supposed to do?" Buffy asked after a moment, breaking the silence, not meaning for her voice to sound as hard as it did.

Willow gave her a not quite smile, but did not tear her gaze away from a still life painting of a vibrant floral arrangement in purples and yellows that was nailed on one of the walls, which were all painted a lovely shade of landlord white.

"I don't know." She whispered honestly. She sucked in a loud breath that sounded more like a sob and finally turned her tear streaked face towards the Slayer. "Buffy…I'm so sorry. None of this was supposed to happen. It wasn't any dangerous magic, I swear! I just…I just wanted to ask them to _let me save_ _her_. That's all! I just wanted to save her. I didn't mean for you to get caught up in this…I didn't think that…"

Buffy stood up quickly, resuming her pacing. "That's just it, Willow! You never 'mean to' and you _don't _think! It's always about _you_!" the petite blonde fumed, throwing her hands up in the air and coming to a stop in front of the redhead who seemed to shrink into herself.

She opened her mouth to let loose another string of accusations when she finally noticed how hunched over the witch was. Her shoulders stooped so low, she looked bent in half. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but that did not stop the tears from flowing underneath her eyelids. Willow, however, did not make a sound, as if she had been preparing herself for an outburst like this for weeks. Raising her eyes to the ceiling, she inaudibly let loose a few choice swear words to the Fates once more and sat on the bed next to Willow, causing the mattress to sink to once side.

"I…I just don't…" the blonde started, immediately realizing that she did not know what to say so she let the beginnings of her sentence hang in the air so tangibly, that it might as well have been written above her head like in an episode of Sesame Street.

"You're right." Willow said at last, so softly that even though Buffy was sitting right next to her longtime friend, she had to lean in to hear her properly. "I _wasn't_ thinking about you or Xander, or Dawn, or anyone else." The more she spoke, the stronger her voice got until she was speaking normally, her shoulders straightened and looking directly at the Slayer. "I was thinking about _her_. Don't you understand, Buffy? It's _always_ about her. Tara was and is my _everything_. If you've come here to stop me…"

Willow stood up and took up Buffy's post of pacing the floor. "They couldn't have sent you here to stop me, not after they already told me to _save_ her." She continued, though it was clear that she was talking more to herself than to the Slayer. "I _won't _be stopped." She emphasized her point by stopping abruptly and balling her hands into fists.

Buffy knew that look, it was the famous resolve face that said you could either go with her, or get in the way and be trampled. It was the business look and Willow really meant it. Like it or not, the Slayer knew that she was in this ordeal for the long haul and if she wanted to get back to her own dimension any time soon, she figured she might as well help.

"_There's no way I'm forgiving her." _The blonde reiterated in her head, hoping that the Fates were cross-dimensional mind readers. "I'm not here to stop you." She said aloud. "I told you that I stumbled into your spell on accident and the Fates, the Mow-rah…"

"Moirae."

"Whatever, _Moirae_ plopped me here to help you out. Whether we like it or not, we're stuck with each other until you can save Tara's soul."

Willow looked down at her feet, seeming intensely interested in how the black laces on her shoes crept up over the tongue and ended in the haphazard knot of someone who could not be bothered with tying their shoes properly before she spoke.

"Would that really be _so_ bad, Buffy? We used to be friends."

The blonde had the good sense to look away from the witches' face in shame, directing her statement at the open window that was letting in a hot breeze. "Aren't we _now_? After everything that's happened?" she risked a glance at the redhead who was regarding her thoughtfully.

"What I did, what I _wanted _to do can't be swept under the rug, Buffy." Willow started, holding the Slayers stare. Buffy was suddenly reminded of high school Willow and wanted desperately to throw her arms around her friends' neck and tell her everything was going to be okay, but chose instead to clasp her hands together so tightly, her knuckles turned white.

"I don't expect forgiveness." The redhead continued, her voice cracking with the weight of her emotions. "I don't _deserve_ forgiveness. Not for what I've done to you, or poor Dawnie, or Xander and especially not for what I've done to Tara. Buffy, I can't _live_ without her in the world. Even after I tell her what I've done and she never wants to see me again, just _knowing_ that she's out there somewhere, and she's doing okay…just knowing that she's _alive_ is enough for me. I just wanted to _save _her. I don't want to be helpless to save her. That's _all_ I've ever wanted."

Willow sank to her knees, landing on the floor with a hard thunk, but she did not care. She let everything out, she let herself come undone in a way that she had suppressed since she had been a demon. She allowed herself to _truly_ cry. Great heaving sobs that made her hiccup for air, and she was finally not worried about _who_ saw her break down. Tara was here somewhere and short of Divine Intervention, she was going to save her. No one, not a demon, not the Slayer and certainly not the First was going to stop her.

Buffy watched helplessly as her friend laid her emotions bare for her to dissect and could not stop her reaction to the heartfelt confession. She slid off the bed and onto the floor where she crawled clumsily on her knees to where Willow was curled up into the fetal position and gathered the fragile witch into her arms, her own tears streaming down her face. Had she not forgiven Angel for what he had done? Why was it so hard to forgive Willow? How could she save Willow while the redhead saved Tara?

The questions swirled into a miasma of convolution as she attempted to comfort the witch who only seemed to cry harder the moment her head rested against the Slayer's shoulder. No, Buffy would worry about forgiving Willow later. She needed to help the Wicca figure out how to save Tara. She had an obligation not only as the Slayer, but also as Tara's friend, to help Willow help Tara.

All of the issues between them faded into a bad dream as Buffy held onto Willow tightly, rocking her back and forth and humming soothing words of comfort the blonde could barely hear herself utter. Maybe the Fates _had_ involved her in an elaborate attempt to forgive Willow. Maybe, in this moment, it was working. Maybe Willow did not _need_ 'Buffy the vampire Slayer.' Maybe she needed Buffy the best friend who often called her at two o'clock in the morning with Angel troubles. The Buffy that told her to 'seize the day, cause tomorrow, you might be dead,' the Buffy that seen her grow from the painfully shy bookworm she had been to the confident hacker whose world was completed by a tall blonde witch that she had come to trust her life with and that she desperately wanted back. Maybe all Willow needed, was love.

*

"The _Slayer_? Are you sure?" Eurynomus asked with interest, tapping his chin with a long forefinger in thought.

Asmodeus nodded gleefully and followed his master down a dimly lit marble hallway and into a side room. "She arrived shortly after the Queen, my Lord."

"Perfect! Master knew the Fates would send her here, to try to stop us no doubt. Does she have the Energumen Eye with her?"

"She must, my Lord. Max said that the Queen did not have the Eye on her but the Great Master has said the Eye is back in this dimension."

"Excellent, Asmodeus! I suppose I shall forgive you for not delivering the Eye directly to Her Majesty."

The garnet demon bowed his head deeply. "Thank you, Master. I had not meant to fail you, the area smelled of her and then the Slayer came out of no where and…"

"I care not for your excuses, Asmodeus. The Slayer will seek Willow out, Willow will seek out Tara and Tara will make sure that the Eye moves into the Queen's possession. Once she has the Eye, there will be no hope for the Slayer to stop us."

"Master?" the hulking demon started, waiting for Eurynomus to sit in an overstuffed armchair before bringing him a glass of wine and taking his place on the floor near his Lord's feet. "What use have we for the consort then? _I_ would gladly fight the Slayer and get the Eye back."

The Prince of Vultures chuckled softly and patted his companion on the head as if he were a dog that had just performed a difficult trick. "No, Asmodeus. I appreciate your gumption of course, but we cannot force her into accepting the Eye. The consort is necessary to the plan."


	6. And Merry Meet Again

**AN: **A special piquant-ish thanks is in order for counterpunch and Rikkustar for taking the time to give me feedback. Delicious, mocha flavored feedback =) Also! I'm super sorry for updates taking so long! My girlfriend was here on her spring break and ended up staying two extra weeks and then my router blew up (not really, it stopped working). Everything is back to normalish though XD

Aaaand, I apologize for the horrible repetition/grammatical errors. I've got no beta reader and I usually write at oh dark thirty in the morning (see also: Amish o'clock) due to keeping ridiculous vampire hours. Yay insomnia! Now, back to the story!

*

Willow came into consciousness slowly; shaking off the remnants of a dream she was almost certain had something to do with tap dancing strawberries attempting to colonize Mars. Wiping a hand over her face, she realized that she had fallen asleep on Buffy's shoulder and carefully eased herself away from the Slayer in an attempt not to wake her. Sunlight poured into the room from the window that had been left open the night before, creating an early morning orangeish glow that the Wicca found slightly unsettling. Yawning, the redhead stretched her arms and arched her back until her spine cracked loudly in a futile attempt to protest the night spent awkwardly on the floor.

"_When did I fall asleep?_" she wondered, debating on whether or not she should wake the blonde and get her off the floor. Gnawing slightly on her lower lip in thought, she ultimately decided against it. She was not quite sure she was ready to face Buffy after what had happened. Sighing internally, Willow pulled the quilt off the top of the bed gently and draped it around the unconscious Slayer who only furrowed her brow slightly before slumping from the sitting position she had been sleeping in, to a curled ball on the floor.

Finding a pen and a pad of paper on the polished mahogany desk across the room, she scribbled down a quick note about where she would be and made her way towards the door, pulling the heavy grey curtains closed on her way out.

Making her way down the eternally fluorescent hallways and into the lobby, she self-consciously began to notice other patrons regarding her strangely. On the way out of the room, she had passed a couple in the hallway who had pressed their backs against the wall and bowed their heads as she passed even though the corridor was wide enough for a small congregation of people. She had been so busy trying to remember the direction of the elevator that she had not registered it until she had reached the lobby.

The lobby was not very populated, which was not surprising, given the early hour, but the people here too seemed to stop what they were doing and turn their attention her way. The burnt orange glint of the strange sun in this dimension made the ground floor of the hotel look like a cathedral of blood and Willow pinched herself to make sure that she was awake.

"_Okay, ow, too hard._" She cringed, rubbing the inside of her arm where she had dug her nails into the skin. "_Why is everyone looking at me, is there something on my face?_"

There were three women sitting behind the high welcoming counter, all wearing matching navy blue shirts with shiny gold nametags she could not make out at that distance. As she passed, they lowered their heads and Willow could think of nothing to do but nod back and offer a feeble smile. A well dressed woman who had been in the process of cajoling the small boy with her into standing still while she spoke to one of the receptionists dropped her gaze the second the witch caught it. The silence of the room had caused a high-pitched hum to settle into the redhead's ears as she passed the duo. If the lobby had not been so eerily silent, Willow would have completely missed the hushed whisper of the boy as she exited the building.

"That's her, mama, isn't it?"

Creasing her brow in intense confusion, the Wicca squeezed her fingers to her temples for a moment until she felt reality fall back into its familiar position around her. This place was strange, though as far as she knew, this version of Sunnydale did not get many outsiders and she was probably something of an anomaly, which would naturally attract attention.

With every step she took that led her away from the hotel, Willow felt her apprehension lessen and soon, she was strolling leisurely down the sidewalk until she found the occult shop Maxwell had spoken to her about at the Bronze. It was not hard for her to find, once she saw the directions the charismatic man had given her, she realized that it was in the exact location of the Magic Box. It took her less than ten minutes to get there, but once she was standing in front of the building, she realized that although it was in the same location, this was _not_ the Magic Box.

The lithe witch did not make movement to enter for a moment, checking a nearby street sign twice to make sure that she was on Maple Court. The light blue exterior was gone and in its place, a paint job of a mottled green-black that was slightly reminiscent of swamp water. It seemed bigger, imposing even. There was a hand written placard in the window that proclaimed 'if we can't get it, it doesn't exist!' in neat but hurried handwriting. Instead of the 'Magic Box,' the white and purple lettering above the door proclaimed the store to be 'Wyrd.'

"_Wyrd…wyrd…_" Willow repeated, rolling the word over in her mind. "_Duh, Rosenburg, it's a rune. The blank rune of the cosmic power of Fate._ _Wyrd._" Smiling happily, she pulled open the door with a light heart. She felt good about this.

A bell over the door announced her presence with a loud jingle, but there was no one at the front counter to greet her. Though it was set up similarly to the Magic Box, Wyrd was indeed a bigger store, which she noted with a cursory glance at the massive shelves packed to their capacity with books she had never heard of and magical curios. The door in the back that usually led to Buffy's training room was gone and instead, had a thick black curtain hung above the frame to deter prying eyes with large impressive looking white symbols embroidered onto it that Willow could not identify.

"Um, h-hello?" she called out a little more meekly than she had intended.

There were shuffling sounds coming from behind the black curtain and the muffled baritone of a male voice before Maxwell popped his head out from behind the curtain with a cantankerous look that immediately dissolved into a wide smile when he saw the redhead.

"Willow!" he declared unnecessarily, stepping out from behind the curtain with one last nod behind his shoulder. "I hadn't expected you so soon!"

"Oh! Sorry, I can…I can come back later?" she started, distracted by the same prickle on her skin that she had felt last night at the Bronze.

The brunette gave her a dazzling smile that made his cheeks dimple deeply and shook his head, the ponytail behind him flopping merrily about. "Nonsense! You're here now, and that's what matters! How's the hotel? To your liking, I hope?" he sauntered behind the main glass top counter and began to rummage through one of the shelves behind it.

"Yeah…about the room." She began, not being able to tear her eyes away from the curtained off room.

Maxwell frowned slightly and stopped his ministrations on the shelf, holding a blue glass bottle that had some manner of clear liquid in it. "If anything's wrong you can just say the word and I'll take care of it."

"Oh no no! It's not that!" she said, forcing herself to snap her gaze away from the back room and onto her gracious friend. "It's great, honestly! Comfy-cozy am I. Slept like a log, or a baby even! Or a baby log!" she cringed visibly at her Willow-babble. "It's just that…I have a…" she struggled with herself for a moment, trying to find the right way to explain the relationship she currently had with Buffy. "A friend," The word was not a total lie. "I haven't…we haven't really been on the best of terms lately and she sort of kind of maybe showed up the other night and…I hope it's okay, you've already been so nice and everything, but I might have implied that she could…stay with me? For a while?"

The brunette shrugged his shoulders genially and set the bottle on the counter before turning around and starting into a shelf packed with leather-bound books, tilting his head sideways and running an index finger along the spines as he read them. "No worries! Mi casa es su casa! I'll head over there and arrange for your friend to take the suite next to yours. Sound good?"

Willow nodded even though he could not see her, it _did_ sound good. As much as she wanted to mend fences with Buffy, she was not so sure that they could go back to the roommate stage quite yet, and this whole situation was awkward enough without them trying to avoid each other when they occupied the same room. The redhead jumped slightly as Maxwell whirled around, dropping a thick red book onto the countertop with a loud slap.

"Alright, no problems then! Anyways, I should get going, I've got some other stuff to get to today so regrettably, I won't be around for your first day but there's another girl coming in…" he checked his expensive looking watch that was rather plain, but still had an air of 'there are only five people in the world who can afford this watch' about it. "A few hours. Until then, I've got someone else who can show you what to do but judging from the conversation we had the other night, you won't need much help."

His mouth slid into a cocky grin that confused the witch for a moment and she was just about to question the knowing look on his face when he slipped out from behind the counter, carrying the book and the bottle and stood in the middle of the expansive store, turning his head toward the mysterious doorway. "Tara!" he shouted pleasantly. "Come out here, there's someone I want you to meet!"

Maxwell had turned to her and said something else, but Willow had not heard whatever it was. Her entire body clenched up and she was in the process of trying to will her heart to start beating again. She felt like she was sweating. _"She won't remember you."_ The redhead thought suddenly, recalling what the Fates had told her. Her teeth were clamped so firmly to the walls of her cheeks that she was sure they were going to bleed as soon as her blood started pumping again. _"Whatever you do, act natural. Don't faint, don't hyperventilate, pretend you don't know her. Oh god, how do I do that? Goddess help me, I think I'm gonna keel over…" _

Willow focused on her breathing, and had barely slowed it to the point where her chest did not ache when she heard quiet shuffling beyond the curtain before it was pulled back. Immediately, the redhead felt her chest tense up again.

"Willow, are you okay?" Maxwell queried. The tone of his voice sounded concerned but he still wore an impish grin.

The witch could do nothing but nod. The truth was, she felt clammy and she was sure that she looked it, but currently words were escaping her. She had gone from clenching the inside of her cheeks to balling her hands into fists at her side and gripping the sides of her jeans for all she was worth. If she let go, she was almost certain that she would lose control and throw her arms around Tara.

Tara looked almost exactly like Willow remembered her. Her hair was a tad shorter and brushed away from her face. Her demeanor was more confident than Willow recalled, she held her shoulders back and wore an amused, but somewhat puzzled look on her face. The redhead noted in the back of her mind that if there was a Faith living in this version of Sunnydale, Tara was taking clothing advice from her. This Tara seemed to prefer darker colors, wearing a burgundy top with black jeans and a matching jean jacket. It was not that she did not fit the clothes; it was that the clothes fit her a little _too_ well. As far as Willow remembered, the blonde had always been a little self conscious about her image, but apparently, this new version had no such qualms.

"_Stop it!" _she chided herself. _"This isn't a different Tara, she's got the same soul, she looks the same, she's just been in a different environment." _Willow reasoned with herself. In the back of her mind, she felt there was something else different about Tara, something that she was not quite placing.

"Willow Rosenburg," Maxwell said, dragging her name out slightly as if knowing he had to get her attention. "I'd like you to meet Tara Maclay. Tara, _this_ is the woman I've been telling you about."

Willow felt herself shiver as Tara gave her an obvious once over, barely noticing the blondes confused frown as their eyes met. Offering her best 'nice-to-meet-you' smile that she hoped was authentic, the Wicca shook Tara's proffered hand, thankful that she did not swoon on the spot. The familiar, and much missed, shock of electricity that occurred whenever she touched the blonde raced through her hand and she sucked in a loud breath, trying to will tears out of her eyes. _"I must look like an idiot."_ She thought, quickly but regrettably dropping the hand.

No one had noticed however. Tara was staring at her hand strangely, as if she had not noticed that she had five fingers on that hand before. Maxwell was looking at Tara with an equally bizarre look that if Willow had to name, it would have been neighbors with the word 'woe.'

"Well!" the brunette said, startling both women out of their thoughts. "I leave you in capable hands, Miss Rosenburg! I think you two will get along just _fine_. I'll see you later!" with a wave of his hand, he disappeared through the front door, leaving the two woman staring intently at each other, each failing miserably at pretending they were doing anything but.

"So," Tara started, breaking the silence. "Max told me that you used to work in a magic shop before?"

Willow just nodded, watching transfixed as the blonde gracefully hefted a cardboard box full of who knew what onto the main counter before picking through its contents and placing some of them on the counter for pricing. The redhead noted with more than a little surprise that Tara had no stutter. Even though Willow had grown accustomed to hearing the blonde not stutter, she always reverted back to it unconsciously when she was nervous or just meeting someone for the first time, and the Wicca was effectively a stranger to the blonde. Her voice was a little stronger than Willow was used to; she seemed confident about herself or at least faked it well enough to take charge of the situation.

"What's the matter, don't you talk?"

The redhead started to nod before realizing how stupid she looked, standing in the middle of the room with her hands balled at her sides, pale as a flu patient, eyes shining with tears and what she was positive was a visible lump in her throat.

"Oh, yeah!" she blurted out, cringing at how her voice sounded. Her vocal chords were as tight as the fists at her side. She chuckled nervously and took a few tentative steps towards the counter. "Usually, it's the opposite. I mean, usually people can't get me to _stop_ talking. Especially when I get nervous, you know? Or if I know a lot about something? Which is practically all the time, I'm pretty big with the knowledge, but a lot of people know not to get me started. I'll just walk into a room and they'll say 'oh, there goes that girl that talks all the time. She's a talker, that one' and…" she paled further. "Oh God, I'm doing it right now, aren't I?"

Willow was completely mortified, but when she dragged her gaze from the floor, she found the blonde smiling gently at her. For some reason, it made her heart break; there was a type of sadness in that smile that the redhead could not place or give a concrete name to.

"It's alright, it's cute." The blonde responded, returning to the box on the counter and leaving the other woman in shock.

Willow could only take so many shocks to her system in one day and she was not quite sure that Tara flirting with her, however innocent, was one of them.

"I…uh…thanks?" she managed to squeak out, eliciting a chuckle from the other woman.

The taller blonde glanced up at her from behind the counter and smiled puckishly. "I don't bite unless asked or provoked you know, if you're going to help me with this you kinda have to be…" she put her palms out and moved her arms sideways. "Over here."

Swallowing hard, Willow nodded and managed to force her body to cooperate with her brain for two whole steps before she collapsed on the floor and into unconsciousness.


	7. Epiphanies Hurt

Tara was not sure what had happened. A second ago Willow was walking towards the counter, albeit stiffly, like her muscles were not working. Then, before Tara could really register what was about to happen, the redheads eyes rolled into the back of her head and she crumpled onto the floor in a heap. The blonde had instinctually held out her arms, but logically, she knew she was too far away to catch the other woman and all but ran out from behind the counter to crouch over Willow's prone form.

She frowned deeply, brow creased with worry as she turned Willow's head from side to side, checking to see if she was bleeding anywhere. Normally, she did not show that much concern for anyone, let alone a complete stranger, but there was something about the smaller woman that made Tara want to protect her. Satisfied that there were no open wounds, the blonde studied the unconscious woman as close as she dared, leaning her arms onto her knees to get a better look.

Willow's skin was pale and a tad washed out, but she did not look as if she were sick; it was as if she had seen a ghost and all the color had just drained from her face. Tara watched the other woman's eyelids quiver as her eyes darted back and forth beneath the thin skin. She was definitely out cold.

"The Queen of Hell, huh?" she asked her unconscious companion. She cocked her head to the side and focused on the redhead through her peripheral vision until a light became visible, outlining Willow's form.

Tara had been reading auras for a long time. She was adept at gaining particular feelings from people, even before trying to look at their essence. To her, it was like reading a book and it gave her a better understanding of the person. The blonde had been able to feel the darkness coming from Willow, but it was not in the same wavelength that someone like Maxwell had, or like Eurynomus gave off in thick waves but now that she could see the other witches aura, she understood why.

The darkness contained in Willow was heavy and black, darker than even Maxwell's. Like all darkness it was greedily trying to devour the lighter parts of the redheads aura. This was not particularly strange, as that was the nature of darkness. What confused and surprised her, was that the brighter parts of Willow's essence were _actively_ resisting the darkness. However the darkness had gotten their in the first place, it was clear that Willow did not want it.

"Could be a problem…" Tara mumbled, fascinated at the ethereal battle going on around the blacked out Wicca. The blonde had never seen an aura like Willow's before. She had seen some attempting to resist the darkness and all of those skirmishes were usually over before they had ever really begun, but it was clear that the standoff going on in the redhead had been going on for quite some time.

Tara sighed and bit back a smile as the redhead's face contorted into a confused frown. She shook her head at herself awkwardly and wondered how long they expected her to take with the job. Eurynomus had told her that it was to be a very delicate process; she would have to woo her into embracing her darkness entirely. He had not been very specific on how that was to be accomplished or even why she had been chosen specifically.

"Because I'm me?" Tara rolled her eyes. What made her worthy of the task? She knew that she was different from everyone else around her. Sunnydale was a nexus of evil energy and those that lived there did their utmost to emulate that vibration in attempts to gain some of its power. The world was ruled by darkness. People loved and feared it, the Hellmouth was certainly no exception.

Tara, having grown up in a city surrounded by a blanket of dark ancient energy, was no much the same. She was as adept at using dark magic as she was at reading auras, and though her quintessence drew darkness to her like an industrial magnet, her aura was untouched by it. Perhaps, through helping Willow claim her own blackness, she would find a way to hers. Gently, and without thinking, she brushed some of the stray hairs away from the redhead's face.

The woman was eerily familiar and though Tara struggled to recall her, she knew that there was no way she had met the witch before. She would have definitely remembered if she had. She had never encountered anyone who made her stomach feel as if a flock of butterflies had taken permanent residence in it. When their hands had touched, Tara had felt something strong and powerful. It felt a bit like a magical shock, but it was different, warmer. The would be queen intrigued her in a way she was not used to, she felt inexplicably drawn, and she was not quite sure what to make of that.

_"I just hope she doesn't make a habit of fainting every time someone flirts with her a little…" _she thought amusedly, leaning back a little as the redheads eyes began to flutter. She watched Willow struggle back to consciousness, her green eyes hazy and unfocused as she took in the bright interior of the shop.

"Are you alright?" the blonde asked gently, helping the other woman into a sitting position.

Willow blushed deeply and pressed a hand to her forehead. "Oh jeeze, I…I'm sorry, how long was I out?"

Tara smiled and shrugged. "Five minutes at the most. How are you feeling, do you need any water or anything?"

"No, no, that's okay." She sucked in a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. "I really don't…that doesn't happen a lot, I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. You look like you'd seen a ghost, I'm not _that_ bad looking, am I?" she teased.

Willow's eyes flew open and grew wide as she shook her head ferociously from side to side. "No, no! It's not that at all! You're…" she clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Hey," she said gently, realizing that she was upsetting her. "I was just kidding. Are you sure you don't need any water or something?" she stood up and watched with concern as Willow pulled herself up to her feet. Tara tensed for a moment as the redhead swayed back and forth, but she remained upright and turned to the blonde with a smile.

"Look, no damage! Promise. I'm pretty hardheaded, if it happens again, you should be more worried about the floor."

Tara smiled and led the way back to the counter. "Alright, but if you feel dizzy or anything, tell me."

Willow nodded but still seemed on edge. The look on her face made it seem that she was contemplating either running away or fainting again and was not quite sure which would be more beneficial. The shorter witch took a deep breath and instead of helping Tara with what was on the counter, turned to peruse the bookshelves behind them.

The blonde watched as some of the tension eased out of Willow's shoulders as she inspected the old covers, squinting at them as if trying to commit the titles to memory. Tara felt that this job was going to be far more difficult than she had originally anticipated, as it was now very clear to her that _she_ made Willow nervous.

"So what brought you to Sunnydale?" Tara asked after a few minutes, stifling a giggle as the redhead jumped.

"I needed to change some things." she replied vaguely, pulling out one of the books and leafing through it, still not looking at her.

"What type of things?"

"Myself mostly." Willow offered, glancing at her briefly with a lopsided and half-sincere smile. "And I…" she looked up at Tara suddenly and her gaze was so intense that it caused the blonde's face to flush slightly. "I _lost_ something. Something _very_ important and…" she was interrupted by the clanging of the bell over the door causing her to clamp her mouth shut with a loud click and shake her head slightly.

Tara gave a perturbed nod to the man who had entered the store as he strolled up to the counter and smiled broadly, producing a small yellow slip of paper from the pocket of his black trench coat and doffing his hat while nodding slightly.

"Forgive the interruption, ladies." He began, showing a gleaming row of perfectly straight teeth. "I'm here to pick up this book; I was told it could be found here."

Tara nodded and took the yellow paper, but refused to wipe off her annoyed expression. "The sign out front would be lying if it couldn't." She glanced down at the slip and looked back and forth between the paper and the man for a few seconds before shrugging and handing the paper to Willow. "Do you think you can handle this one?"

Willow nodded and swallowed hard at the sweet smile Tara gave in response. She felt woozy again. She turned towards the back of the store where the blonde had pointed at a large black metal staircase that led to where the forbidden books were kept in Willow's dimension. Taking a deep breath, she shuffled away from the counter and quickly made her way upstairs, hearing the man starting to engage Tara in small talk, but she still felt the familiar burn of the blonde's eyes at her back.

Once upstairs, the redhead consulted the paper in her hand before looking around for something called _Tome of Living Shadow_. Frowning at the title, she ran her fingers along the edges of the books on the nearest shelves, her frown deepening as some of the books gave her small magical shocks.

"_Song of the Demoness Jeilthura_, _The Blood Book of Ghnaael, Vox Demonicum, Path of Endings: Unabridged, Complete Tehuti Scrolls of Forbidden Knowledge…"_ she ticked the names of the books off in her head as she looked. This must be where their forbidden books were kept also. _"Why are they selling them? Maybe this one was misfiled?" _It was a nice thought, but the title of the book fit well with the others.

Some of the books had names Willow could not even begin to decipher, names written in glowing symbols and some had no names at all; she decided it best not to touch any of those ones. She found the _Tome of Living Shadow_ sandwiched between a copy of _Eurynomus Immundus: Librus de Odium _and something bound in what she prayed was pigskin and had a title she was sure you needed five sets of vocal chords to pronounce. She pulled the book she needed off the shelf and made her way quickly down the stairs, noting Tara's bored and slightly aggravated expression and the way the man in the trench coat was leaning towards her over the counter, his mouth open to say something.

Willow slapped the book onto the countertop loud enough to make him stand up quickly and back up a step, her heart skipping a beat as Tara chuckled quietly. The man straightened his hat and brushed a hand over the cover before attempting to open the book, foiled by the blonde snapping it closed with both hands, surprising both the man and Willow.

"How do I know I'll be satisfied with it if I can't look at it first?" he asked pleasantly but the redhead noticed that he withdrew his hands.

The younger witch was confused by the look of fear on the man's face so she turned to look at the blonde who was firmly shaking her head. There _was_ something in her expression that Willow had rarely seen.

The last time she had been privy to that particular glower was when they were standing in line at a movie theatre and an obnoxious man behind them was making none too vague attempts at getting the redheads phone number. When she had ignored him and clasped onto Tara's hand, he had called her something that would have never been repeated in polite circles or cable television. The look on the blondes face matched that but thankfully, was lacking the murderous glint.

"_Possible dismemberment may occur."_ Willow thought, only half joking.

"You're lucky I'm even considering selling you this book." Tara said, taking her hands off the cover. "If you can't figure out how to open it properly, that's your problem, but you're not going to do it in _here_. Okay?" her voice was calm and pleasant, but the look she was giving him promised that what would happen if he did not agree would be anything but pleasant.

He bobbled his head up and down quickly before reaching into his pocket and dropping a wad of bills onto the counter. "Okay, sure, no problem!" he clutched the book to his chest and backed out of the store once he had his change.

"Don't you think you were a little hard on him?" Willow asked after he had left. If she did not know she was in an alternate dimension before, she definitely did now, after asking _Tara_ a question like that.

Tara shrugged and went back to taking things out of the box on the end of the counter. "There's a reason why that book is called _Tome of Living Shadow_. My guess is it's just going to sit on a shelf in his living room to make him look like Mr. Magic-Smarty-Pants when his friends go over to play 'light as a feather, stiff as a board.' But if he wants to open it without the proper spell and let a demonic Shadow Lord loose, I'd rather he did it at home and not here."

"A…uh…what?"

"Demonic Shadow Lord. There are only seven copies of that book and all of them have one. They're bound to the book and to whoever opens it properly but you have to pass some tests…but not the kind you need a pencil for." She giggled to herself. "Unless it was made from a tree that grew on the banks of the Acheron. Anyways, if you don't do it right…well, it's actually kind of icky to think about…lots of things on the _outside_ that used to be on the _inside_."

"So why did we sell him the book?" Willow rushed over to the door and looked around the street anxiously, but the man was gone and there was no way to tell in which direction he had left. She returned, her arms folded anxiously over her chest and worriedly gnawing on her lower lip. "He's gone!"

Tara tilted her head to the side slightly and raised an eyebrow in befuddlement. If Willow had noticed, she would have thought it endearing and would have forgotten the whole matter, but she was busy bouncing slightly on her heels with her thumbnail firmly lodged between her teeth and staring anxiously out of the front window.

"Why are you worried about him then?"

The younger witch turned around and shook her head in disbelief. _"What has this place done to you, Tare?" _she wondered. Willow's Sunnydale was evil, it was true, it was something that could not be helped when a town sat atop a Hellmouth. At least there, there had been energy signatures from people like Buffy who did good, who tried to maintain balance. Epiphany dawned suddenly on the redhead; with Tara's seemingly simple question, Willow finally figured out why this Sunnydale felt slightly different. It was not because it was a different dimension; it was because there _was_ no good energy here.

_"A hell dimension where people don't seem overtly amoral or evil? People have been really polite…it's like Canada got sucked into hell. Ohmigod!"_ Willow's hands flew to her face immediately upon remembering the research she had been doing while she had been back in her own dimension. _"I remember Xander was joking about this while he was researching Eurynomus!"_

A hell dimension reflected its ruler, which was why all hell dimensions were thought to all be places of horrible pain and suffering. _This_ dimension must be Eurynomus'. That was the only explanation. Xander had made the joke that since Eurynomus was the Cary Grant of demons, his hell dimension would be like a Miss Manners column but all the answers would be to give your soul to the First.

"_He may not have been dead on with the Miss Manners reference, but this has to be his dimension. Oh Goddess…Did he know what we were up to? Is it just a coincidence that Tara was here? Does he know Buffy and I are here? Oh God I think I'm going to be sick."_

"Hey…"

Willow visibly jumped and wrapped her arms around her torso at the soft voice next to her ear. How long had Tara been standing next to her, and when had she gotten so close? Her skin could not decide whether it wanted to rush all the blood to her face or drain all the blood out, so it settled on clamming up and sending the rest of the nervousness and fear to her stomach, in order to facilitate nausea.

Tara put her hand out as if she were contemplating a comforting hand on Willow's back, but she chose instead to drop it and continue her sentence. "Willow?" she looked far away for a moment as she said the redheads name, but her eyes regained their focus and concentrated on the trembling form in front of her. "A-are…Are you okay? You look really sick."

Tara was concerned that something was wrong with the redhead; maybe she hit her head harder than either of them had thought. The smaller woman was staring at her intently with a strange look on her face that Tara figured was a disturbing conglomeration of fear, anxiety, confusion, concern, and something else she could not piece together. She had never been one to squirm under scrutiny, but the look was making her want to do just that so she tried to focus on looking Willow in the eyes instead.

"_How could this have gotten to you?" _Willow was thinking. She had seen Tara's mouth move, but had not heard anything, she was too focused on the blonde's face that she had memorized what seemed like ages ago. _"Your eyes look the same, which has to be a good sign. They're not empty or anything…you're just lost. You look confused…and upset. Upset?" _she shook her head, realizing that the blonde had said something to her.

"Where are you staying? I think I should take you home…"

The bell over the door tolled merrily again and both women turned their heads to see who had entered. A darkly dressed woman with light brown hair strode into the store, oblivious to either of them. She had made it halfway to the counter when she seemed to notice the duos presence and spun around.

"_Oh God, how many heart attacks can a girl have in one day?" _ Willow bemoaned, clutching at her waist even tighter as the brunette smiled brightly and walked over to them. Luckily, Tara was right there to catch her as she felt her knees buckle and the world tilt away from her.

"Whose you're…_friend_?" the brunette asked cheerfully. "I thought Max told you to do that back there." She gestured carelessly towards the curtained off room.

Willow felt her brain was too broken to even think about the myriad of implications in that sentence.

Tara gave the girl a look Willow could not see, but the brunette backed up several steps and held her arms out in front of her in the universal sign of peace. "You're late, Amy. _Again_." Tara said instead, still keeping Willow from having another rendezvous with the floor.

"_Sorry_. Everybody can't be drowned in their work like you, lighten up, Tara! I'm only ten minutes late and it seems like you're pulling overtime anyways."

With Tara's face turned away from her, Willow only caught the edge of the sneer Tara gave Amy, but that was enough. Willow had never seen Tara sneer before and was sure that she would be up for a second round of fainting if she had actually seen it straight on. Amy paled visibly; the color change was so immediate, that Willow was sure that if she were not struggling to keep a grip on her sanity and consciousness, she would have dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"_She_ is not a _client_." Tara hissed, spitting out the last word like 'a client' was the most odious thing on the planet to be.

Amy nodded vigorously and wrung her hands in front of her. Willow wanted to laugh hysterically at the absurdity of the situation. Not just that Amy Madison was working for Tara in an alternate dimension, but that same girl who spent the better part of her young adult life as a rat, was apparently deathly afraid of _Tara_.

Willow's vision was a little inconsistent so she felt more than saw Tara shift to her side and grip her firmly around the waist with one arm and take her hand with her free one, effectively holding her up and keeping her from the untold horrors that gravity insisted upon saddling her with at every given turn.

"Watch the store, if Max comes by, tell him I'm out, he'll understand. I'm taking Willow home."

Willow was sure that Tara's own voice was coming out of her, but it was not a tone she had heard before. What the redhead had heard was something more akin to _"Do as I say or I'll make you long for dismemberment."_

Apparently, Amy had heard the same thing Willow had since she seemed to pale impossibly further and was currently as white as a sheet of paper and nodding so actively, that the redhead worried about permanent brain damage but was unable to give voice to her concern.

Tara nodded her head towards Amy as a way of saying goodbye and the brunette immediately made for the safety of her job post behind the counter, watching as the duo left the store.

"She's sure touchy today…" Amy said out loud and to no one in particular, but felt she had to voice her exasperated mood without the threat of bodily or spiritual harm before pulling a book off the shelf and preparing for a day of working alone.

**AN:** Cliff hangers, how original of me! This chapter is roughly 9 1/3rd pages instead of the usual 6-7! Why? Because I heart anyone that gives me feedback and puts up with weird updating schedules. Seriously, I never thought I'd be so squeally to get feedback before. I feel like the quality of my writing is slipping. If it is, let me know post haste so I can amend that in further chapters.

Before anyone asks me; yes, Tara _did_ actually grow up in this version of Sunnydale. Time flows differently in different dimensions, hence why the Fates stopped time in "original" SunnyD (remember on Angel when Connor grew up in another dimension, but he was only gone for a few days in the "original"one?). Also, for those not up on Greek mythology, Acheron "the river of pain" and is one of the five rivers in Hades. And for the record, I love Canada. J'adore Canadaland (except trying to decipher Quebecois).

It's really weird writing Tara like this, but I'm having fun with how she might act if crazy effed up family stuff hadn't made her so introverted and polite evil effed her up instead. And I'm not telling how evil she may or may not be or if she'll bring Willow around to the darkside (where they have cookies) =] this is mostly because, like I said in my profile, I usually write with a general idea and then have NO EARTHLY IDEA where my stories go. I'm just as surprised as you guys half the time. It's more fun this way, but sometimes my subconscious is a jerk. Poor Wills!


	8. Everything is Gonna be All Right

Willow spent the majority of the car ride back to the hotel with her forehead pressed against the warm glass, squeezing her eyes shut against the onslaught of sunbeams and allowing her brain a break from trying to register the madness going on around her. Tara had not spoken since she had asked where the redhead was staying, but Willow could feel the furtive glances the she was giving her. With her head turned away from the blonde, she prayed that the tears she had been unable to contain were unnoticeable. There was no sound but the low humming of the engine, which rumbled the seats and aggravated the redhead's nausea.

Willow did not bother to open her eyes until the car came to a stop and shut off, causing white noise to ring in her ears loudly for a moment. The sudden loss of the purring motor made her feel cold all of a sudden and she shivered slightly, wiping her hand over her face quickly and hoping that her silent tears had gone undetected though the concerned look the blonde was giving her said that she had not been as stealthy about weeping as she had hoped.

"Are you going to be okay?" Tara asked quietly, leaning towards the other woman so slightly that the movement had to have been subconscious. "Do you want me to go with you and make sure you get to your room all right?"

Willow glanced out of the window, ignoring the orange pocked brick wall they had parked in front of in favor of scrutinizing what was going on across the street. There were people bustling back and forth with daily activities: shopping, laughing, talking, a couple holding hands, two children chasing each other around a man who was holding rapidly melting ice cream and looking as if he had reached his wits end ages ago, a woman walking her small pony of a dog whose breed Willow prayed only existed in this dimension.

_"I used to have that." _She thought absentmindedly, having not actually registered Tara's question. _"I used to have normal…sort of. It's hard to believe all those people are evil. They _enjoy_ it, they strive for it and they look so…_happy_."_

She visibly jumped at the gentle hand on her arm and turned her attention away from the street and to her forearm. She stared at Tara's hand a moment, resisting the near overpowering urge to place her own on top of it. Even her hands were the same as she remembered. Her delicate looking hand had slender, tapered fingers. 'Witch hands,' Tara used to call them. There were traces of what had been maroon nail polish here and there on her fingernails, which the redhead would not have noticed if she had not been studying Tara's hand so intently.

She moved her eyes up the blonde's jacketed arm and slender neck to study her face. If she had her wits about her, Willow probably would not have been staring so openly, but there was only so much a mind could do before it just shut down completely and let the rest of the body do what it would for a while. The blonde's lips were parted slightly and looked as if they had never needed chapstick in all their existence. Willow's eyes moved further up, past the nose she often planted light kisses on in the morning, past the cheekbones she had traced with her fingers countless times and into the other witches eyes.

_"I forgot how blue they were…"_ she thought absentmindedly, sucking in a short breath. _"Denim blue? No, that's not right. Cloudy blue? Evening blue? Ocean blue…"_ she ignored her own inner ramblings and searched the blonde's eyes; for what, she was not sure, but if someone told her that she could spend the rest of her life just staring into Tara's eyes, she would probably have to break out into full fledged Snoopy dancing. Her eyes felt watery again, so she blinked rapidly while cursing her overly hydrated tear ducts and shook her head, breaking away from her little staring contest. _"Stop it, Rosenburg! She must think you're a complete nutcase by now. How can you help her if she thinks you'll eat the fruit off the wallpaper?"_

She forced her senses on behaving as if she were a normal human being and turned her attention back to the blonde, surprised at the flush in the other woman's cheeks and close enough to see that her pupils were dilated slightly.

Tara closed and opened her mouth and swallowed thickly before speaking. "D-do you…do you want me t-to go in with you? To make sure you make it to your room okay?" her voice was soft and sounded a tad breathless.

In spite of herself, Willow could not help but smile a little but she shook her head. All she wanted to do was find Buffy and have a mental breakdown. "I think I'll be okay. Thanks for the ride though, you…you didn't have to…" As the words left her mouth, she realized Tara really did _not_ have to. Though not evil, the blonde was probably just as amoral as the rest of the dimension. The fact that she not only showed concern for the redhead, but she had been stuttering slightly gave Willow a tiny thread of hope which she was more than willing to cling to as if she were dangling over the yawning maw of a cliff.

Tara removed her hand slowly, brushing it slightly down Willow's arm and causing the younger woman to shudder imperceptibly though her insides would have felt just as rattled had she just had an internal earthquake. The taller witch grabbed a pen from the emergency brake well between them and awkwardly pushed herself out of her sitting position to obtain a slip of paper from her back pocket. Using one leg as a desk, she scribbled onto it hastily before folding it and grabbing Willow's hand, upturning it and pressing the scrap onto her palm.

"It's my number." She said while the redhead stared at the paper in her hand. Tara felt suddenly embarrassed. "You know…in…in case you need anything else…Or j-just to talk."

Willow nodded and gave the blonde the most sincere smile she could muster without bursting into tears. "Thanks, Tara."

A shadow of something passed over the other woman's face for a moment and Willow would have sworn it was recognition if that had been possible. Whatever it was, it was gone before it could have been analyzed and Tara did nothing but smile in return and watch her get out of the car, only starting it and pulling out of the parking lot once Willow crossed the threshold of the hotel doors behind them.

Now that the sun was out fully, the lobby had lost the eerie blood cathedral feeling that had prevailed in the mid morning hours and she could appreciate it a little more. The dark wood floors looked exceedingly clean and well polished, the dim glass chandelier light reflecting sharply off the floor and using that to double the lighting effect. There was a huge ornate rug in shades of red and cream that looked as if it cost more money than Willow had ever seen in real life that had overstuffed cream Victorian armchairs and a couch trimmed in mahogany situated around it. The polished mahogany table in the middle of the rug seemed as though no one had ever set anything on it since its creation.

A few large plants that Willow did not readily recognize stood scattered about the lobby in ivory and gold pots. She stood for a moment, just admiring the lobby and its high vaulted ceilings before she noticed that everyone was staring at her again, but this time, there were more people in the room. Making a nervous beeline for the golden-doored elevator, she let out a breath only when she reached her floor and found the hallways deserted.

*

Buffy was staring absentmindedly out of the hotel window through the blinds, the vertical slats breaking her vision into a strange sort of comic book paneling that she would have probably found amusing if she had actually been looking at anything. She had far too much thinking to do and while her eyes were open, they were unfocused and did not see anything in particular.

She had awoken to a sore shoulder, an arm on pins and needles, and an empty room. After flexing her hand and trying to get the blood flow back into her arm, she spotted Willow's note about checking out a magic shop. Though there was an address scrawled underneath the obviously hastily written note, Buffy decided against following the redhead there. She had spent most of the morning twiddling her metaphorical thumbs and contemplating her present predicament.

What was she supposed to _do_ exactly? She had already ruled out following Willow around like a bodyguard, but there was a reason the Fates brought her there as well. Buffy _hated_ being unsure of her place. She hated not knowing what to do to help. She hated that while alone with her thoughts she found she did not mistrust Willow as much as she originally thought. Wanting to rid herself of thinking and feeling, the Slayer had started working out, punching at invisible enemies in the air, doing crunches while she held her breath and counted backwards from one thousand…anything to get her mind off the situation.

However, the more she swung at the air, the more she felt the situation was unfair. Even if Willow could not control herself, why did _she_ have to get dragged into the whole mess? Why did Buffy have to be the one to look out for everyone yet again? In the midst of a spinning kick that she imagined was taking the smirk off one of the Fates, she had heard a light knock on the door. Irritated at having her alone time interrupted, she recalled how fascinated the staff behind the counter had been at their arrival and wondered if they had sent up room service.

Her stomach growling in anticipation, she pulled open the door just enough to see a tall broad shouldered man with chicly messy brown hair and soulful chocolate colored eyes.

"You're not pancakes." She huffed disappointedly but opened the door all the way nevertheless.

He gave her an entrancing grin, distracting her from her discontent with dimpled cheeks. She liked dimples. "I'm afraid not." he began jovially sticking his hand out for her to shake. "Maxwell Morton. I suppose you could say I'm the fellow to know around here. You must be the friend Willow spoke of?"

Buffy felt a flash of guilt at the descriptor but nodded while she shook his hand anyways. "She told me about you…you're a big deal I guess."

He grinned and shrugged modestly. "I suppose…Willow told me that you two were cohabitating?"

The blonde bit her lip and nodded a little sheepishly. "Yeah…I mean, I hope that's okay we…" she struggled a moment with what to say. "We were in sort of a _situation_ where we come from and ended up here and she invited me to stay with her since neither of us knows anyone…"

"Nonsense! She knows me and now, so do you. Would you care to accompany me for lunch? I understand the two of you came here with naught but the clothes on your back and it's something of my duty to assist."

The man gave Buffy a strange vibe, but Willow had spoken of how often he had mentioned fate, which must have meant that he was someone they could trust. She _was_ hungry and could use some food and a change of clothes, she figured she could stomach sitting across a table from Mr. Dimples and maybe figure out what was this place was really about.

Maxwell had been as chivalrous as his he portrayed himself to be and had returned Buffy to the hotel room with a full stomach, the key to the room next to Willow's, and a pile of new clothing she had procured for both herself and Willow. That had been about two hours ago; ever since her return to the room, Buffy had resigned herself to thinking and staring unseeing out of the window.

She was just about to heave a great sigh, either to clear her head or break the silence, when she head the door open and close with a soft click. Excited for a moment at the prospect of gushing over new clothes, and to have an excuse to stop thinking, Buffy turned around, sure that Willow had come in.

The redhead's countenance was one of abject despair, her shoulders hunched as if carrying the weight of the world. She crawled up on the bed and slumped against the headboard, staring numbly at the opposite wall without greeting the Slayer. Concerned, Buffy watched the frail woman for a few minutes with a calculating gaze. Willow did not move save for the slow rise and fall of her chest and an occasional blink.

Ignoring her own internal battles, the blonde hesitantly crawled her way up the length of the bed and sat next to Willow, unsure of what to say. Something had obviously happened and it had rendered the redhead practically comatose. There was only one thing it could have been, but Buffy had no idea of how to approach the subject.

"I…I saw her." Willow said softly, just as the high-pitched white noise was beginning to make them both feel deaf.

Buffy nodded slowly. "…I figured. Do you…do you want to talk about it?"

The redhead opened and closed her mouth a few times and crinkled her brow before shaking her head.

"I met Maxwell this morning." She tried instead. "You were right, he's a little strange, but ridiculously nice…"

Willow bit down on her thumbnail in contemplation. _"Should I tell her about this place? Will she blame me if I don't and she finds out later? No…it's my fault she's here in the first place, I shouldn't get her involved more than I already have. Besides, she might go into Slayer-mode and try to slay the whole town, Tara included."_

"…and then we met George Washington at the fair and he bought us cotton candy!"

"Huh?"

"You totally spaced out and started mumbling to yourself…are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, sorry…I'm just…in shock a little bit is all. Look, Buffy…I know this doesn't make up for anything or improve the situation any, but…I _am_ really sorry that you got dragged into all of this. I really didn't want you to have even more of an excuse to hate me." She looked down at her hands dejectedly.

"_What_? Why would you think I _hated_ you?!"

Willow shrugged but did not look up. "I mean…after everything that's happened and everything I've done, you have pretty good reason to…I just figured…I mean with the way you and everyone and…I don't know."

Buffy frowned as Willow's sentence became unintelligible through an onslaught of sniffling. She leaned over and nudged the redhead with her shoulders until the tear streaked face turned towards hers. "I could _never_ hate you, Willow."

"But I..."

"…Tried to destroy the world? Sure, you lost someone! Love makes you do the wacky! Remember when my mom died…I…" she shuddered slightly. "With _Spike_ no less, but if I had the kind of power to make the world go kerplooey, I probably woulda done that instead." She threw an arm around the redhead and squeezed the other woman to her side. "You haven't always made the best decisions, Will…but I think I'm beginning to understand why you did some of the things you did. I've been…thinking a lot, about everything that's happened…and I can see where some of it was _my_ fault too, not just yours." She felt her own eyes water. "I should've… I should've been there for you more, you know? It's not like all the crazy stuff happened overnight, it was gradual and I saw it coming, but I kinda just let it…I think I was just so scared of you because if it weren't for Xander, there wasn't anything that could have…" She looked over at the redhead and let the words 'stop you' hang between them.

They stared at each other for a moment before letting out a simultaneous sob of relief and collapsing into a sincere hug. There were still things that needed to be resolved; there were still things that needed to be said, there were still things that needed to be cleared up, but at least in that moment, they could just be themselves. They could just feel relief at being themselves.

They clung to each other for several minutes, neither of them sure if they were crying for what was past or crying at the opportunity to repair what they had. With a water grin, Buffy pulled back and wiped her arm over her eyes, dragging the tears away from her face.

"I feel like we should go out, you know?" she coughed out, sniffing heavily and climbing off the bed. "Max bought us all kinds of junk! The Fates gave you the cute boy hook up. Whaddya say we quit moping and just forget everything for a couple of hours? Life is super weird so we might as well get super weird with it, right?"

Willow rubbed her palms over her eyes and smiled in spite of herself. Getting her mind off everything was probably an excellent idea. "Sure." She said out loud. "Besides, the Bronze here has better drinks anyways; we might as well enjoy _that_ while we can."

They beamed at each other goofily for a few more moments. It felt good to joke around, they had missed each other's company more than either of them would readily admit to and at least for the moment, it felt as if everything was going to be okay.

**AN: **blech, you guys are gonna have to bear with me. I know the whole reconciliation thing seemed out of the blue and a little anticlimactic, but things are far from over or resolved. Also, don't ask me what happens! I don't know! I swear that the only thing I planned going into this story was that Tara was gonna be evil. Other than that, I just kinda zone out and words come out. Which would also explain the myriad of typos and grammatical oopsie daises =D


	9. Different isn't Always Bad

The performing band on stage were local and in the process of belting out their anxieties in the genre of anti-folk. Tara tapped her index finger against the green glass beer bottle in her hand in time to the music, giggling slightly at the lead singer. The woman was a little too skinny but pretty nonetheless, having a caramel complexion and thick raven colored hair highlighted with streaks of nuclear winter blue and a wardrobe that spoke of hipster thrift stores. The woman's eyes, which Tara knew to be brown, were squeezed shut as she swayed back and forth like a metronome, gripping the microphone as if it were the only steady thing in the world.

In retrospect, the blonde thought it was a ridiculous idea to provide her services before a client had anything of importance to do, but the woman had insisted and Tara hardly said no to double pay. So the blonde had given the woman what she had wanted, a rush of powerfully dark magic, in exchange for a small fee and the taking some of the her energy; mostly to sate the darkness, but Tara took a little for herself, if only to feel slightly intoxicated also. The singer was relatively weak in terms of power, so the blonde had ordered herself a beer and slipped off to the balcony before someone else could ask her to ply her trade upon them.

She hummed along with the keyboard parts quietly and swung a leg back and forth, hitting the support bar of her table lightly with a boot clad foot. Truthfully, she had needed to go out, if only to keep her mind off the redhead she had met earlier in the day.

"_Willow, like the tree." _She thought absentmindedly, taking a sip of the cold liquid in the bottle. _"I wonder if she's like the wood...perfectly attuned to magic, emotional…" _she smiled slightly. _"Seems like it."_ She shook her head and let out a perturbed sigh. _"Stupid brain, always thinking about things I tell it not to. I feel like I should know her from somewhere…or maybe I just _want_ to know her." _She felt her mouth curve into a lascivious grin, which disappeared when she felt the presence of someone next to her. "Amy." Tara said flatly by way of a greeting.

The brunette witch slid into the seat next to her and set her glass full of something that smelled more of vodka than whatever had turned the liquid brown on the table and offered the blonde a broad grin. "Hey, sorry about today…I didn't know you were wrangling a date or anything."

Tara ceased her humming and raised an eyebrow at the woman next to her. Amy had known her for years and the blonde realized that the younger witch had seen her do her 'side job' on the singer and thus would likely be in the mood to humor her. Chuckling, she decided to do just that instead of offer up the icy stare that she had been preparing. "I wasn't _wrangling_ anything. That implies chasing and I'm pretty sure a high creepy factor."

Amy laughed. "Come on, Tara! You work too much, you haven't had a date in _ages_." She paused and suddenly looked nervous. "I…I hope I didn't scare her off with my comment or anything. Does she know what you do? On the side, I mean?"

Tara scoffed. "It's not like I'm a _prostitute_ or anything, you know. It's perfectly respectable work, I just like to keep myself to…well, myself, you know? I don't need the whole town knowing what kind of fix I dish out." She rolled her eyes. "Half the weirdos that would want it from me wouldn't be able to afford it anyways, they're better off going to the ones who took out ads in the yellow pages…just the same though, I don't want you to say anything to her about it…"

Amy grinned. "Aye, aye, boss!"

The blonde shook her head slightly. Amy's over eager personality grated on her sometimes. She had no idea why she had asked the brunette to keep her side job a secret; after all, it _was_ respectable work. She even more so than most as she was endorsed by Maxwell Morton himself and rumors of her power were spread far and wide, though she had not exaggerated when she had said there were not many who could afford her, which allowed her to be fussy in her clientele.

Something about Willow struck her as different from anyone else, and not just because of her aura. Tara felt compelled to keep that part of her life a secret from the redhead as long as possible. The fact that the younger witch may disagree with what she was doing did not sit well for some reason, so it was best to avoid the situation altogether. She was distracted from her thoughts by Amy bouncing up and down in her seat, pointing excitedly at something just beyond the balcony railing.

"Lookit!" she was saying excitedly and in a rather loud stage whisper. "There's Willow!"

Tara peered interestedly in the direction Amy's finger was waving and sure enough, the redhead was standing near the bar counter looking tired, but a lot better than she had that morning in a long black skirt and blue top. She appeared to be looking around for someone and had just started squinting up at the far end of the balcony when a short blonde next to her jabbed her lightly in the ribs to get her attention and handed her something in a brown bottle.

"You think she's got a girlfriend already?" the brunette voiced next to her in a lower voice.

Tara wrinkled her nose distastefully but shook her head. "Bring them up, if you want. We may as well be friendly."

Amy snorted a laugh but slid off her barstool. "Sure. The day Tara Maclay is friendly for shits and giggles is the day I turn myself into a rat. I'll be back in a minute."

Tara smiled after her and watched the thin woman descend the staircase, tracking her movements as she slid between people mingling and dancing on the floor. _"A rat would have suited her well."_ She thought offhandedly, watching with amusement as the redhead shook the shirtsleeve of her companion as Amy approached them. The shorter blonde glanced at Willow in confusion, but followed her gaze to Amy's approaching form, causing her eyes to grow wide which Tara could see, even from the balcony.

The brunette witch greeted the redhead and appeared to be introduced to the blonde who regarded her with an odd nod of her head. Amy grabbed two bottles of beer off the counter and said something that made the blonde hold up her hands in surprise, shaking her head furiously, and Willow's face to blush so deeply, she was almost the same color as her hair. Tara rolled her eyes; the brunette was never one for tact.

Amy made a motion as if to go back towards the balcony stairs before turning around and explaining something else. Simultaneously, three pairs of eyes turned towards the balcony. Though Tara was mostly covered in shadow, she had the distinct feeling that the redhead could actually see her, which made her shiver slightly. She watched interestedly as the three of them wove their way back through the crowd and hurry up the staircase and back to the table the blonde currently occupied.

"Look who I found!" Amy said nonchalantly, handing Tara one of the beers in her hand, which she took with a nod and a smile towards the redhead who blushed slightly. "And this is Willow's friend Buffy."

The blonde witch turned her attention towards the shorter woman, whose name and face also seemed irritatingly familiar to her, but not as hauntingly so as Willow's. She shook the other woman's hand, smiling slightly and introducing herself, noticing that Buffy seemed to regard her with the same deer in the headlights expression that Willow had upon their first meeting. She looked like she was about to cry.

"Buffy's staying over at the Amphora too." Amy supplied. _"But not in the same room!"_ she sent mentally to her friend along with a smug smile, earning her a kick in the shins under the table which caused her to wince.

"You two decided to start fresh in Sunnydale at the same time?" Tara asked a tad incredulously.

Buffy and Willow exchanged a look before the shorter of the pair nodded her head and took a long pull off the bottle in front of her. "Tumultuous home situation." She replied vaguely, shrugging her shoulders.

"Well, it's lucky you ran into Max then…Sunnydale isn't really the greatest place to set up shop for newcomers…"

"Tara's right," Amy interjected. "Most new people either leave or get eaten within a few days."

Everyone laughed, though Tara noticed Willow did not seem too sure that the statement was a joke. They made nonsensical small talk while they drank Tara attempting to keep her eyes away from the redhead's side of the table. It would not do well for her to be caught staring, it might, after all, send the poor girl into another bout of unconsciousness. Amy leapt out of her seat suddenly, leaning drunkenly over the balcony railing.

"There's Max!" she shouted with one hand cupped to the side of her mouth so the other women at the table could hear her. She threw Tara a sly wink. "Come on, Buffy…" she finished, pulling the stammering woman out of her seat and dragging her down the steps, leaving Tara to pinch the bridge of her nose tightly and Willow staring beleagueredly after them.

"I'm uh…really sorry about today." The redhead said after a few minutes of concentrating on the tabletop.

Tara offered a genuine smile and shook her head. "It's fine. I'm glad you're feeling better. I'm sorry about Amy. She can be a little…abrasive sometimes."

"_Tell_ me about it." Willow mumbled before offering a small smile of her own. "She seems nice enough. Have you guys been friends long?"

The blonde laughed softly and slid a full bottle towards the redhead. "I'm not sure you could really call us _friends_. We work together and she just shows up sometimes...she's just like everyone else, hoping to claw their way to the top." She watched Willow frown slightly. "That's the nature of life, I guess. Everyone has to look out for themselves because no one is going to do it for you."

"Sounds lonely…"

"I never really thought of it that way…It's just the way it is." Tara felt an inexplicable flash of guilt at the redheads deepening sulk.

"Don't you have any friends or anything?"

She shrugged and gave the question honest thought. She supposed she should count Maxwell, but she _knew_ why the brunette hung around her. The thought made her want to laugh, pity him and dry heave all at once. "Not really."

"If…if you wanted to maybe we…I mean…I could be your friend?"

The blonde's chest tightened in a way that felt familiar and all at once, completely alien, but she felt compelled to nod, mindful of how her mouth affixed itself into a grin without her consent and took a drink out of the now room temperature bottle in front of her.

*

"I like it here." Willow sighed two hours later, arms folded across each other and resting on the passenger's side window ledge of Tara's car. The warm night breeze was pushing her hair wildly around her face, but she did not think to pull her head off its perch atop her arms. Her eyes were closed and she was trying to differentiate the smells here from the ones in her own dimension. She could not see Tara, but she felt the blonde smile so she did too, her face warm from the one too many drinks she had at the Bronze.

"I think you drank too much. You should have told me you were such a lightweight…" the older witch replied, but Willow detected the mirth in her voice.

She felt the car slow and heard the breaks of a car next to them squeak to a stop. The smell of exhaust from several idling cars purring around them drifted up to her nose and the redhead ducked her nose behind one arm. They must have been at a stoplight.

The truth was that even though Willow probably _did_ have one too many, she really had not meant to. After her embarrassing offer of friendship had made her face flush so hard, she was sure her skin was going to melt off soley from the heat of her blush, Tara had just smiled, nodded sweetly, and suddenly they were talking about something else. Willow could hardly have been pressed to recall the topic now, as she barely registered taking part in it the first time around. She had nursed her drink slowly, listening dreamily to the rise and fall of Tara's voice, interjecting 'uh-huhs' and 'yeahs' occasionally to show that she was indeed paying attention.

She dimly recalled giving her opinion about the meaning of certain Dianic rituals in relation to phases of the moon and constellation alignments, which had sparked the intellectual in her and they had been debating for the better part of an hour when Amy and Buffy had slipped back to the table unnoticed. Amy had leaned over to say something to Tara during a lull in the conversation, grinning from ear to ear but it seemed as if the older witch was anything but entertained.

While Tara had heaved a great sigh and excused herself from the table, glaring at Amy who sulked after her, Buffy had leaned over to place a hand on Willow's shoulder and ask her how she was holding up. The redhead had laughed at the absurdity of the situation and bemoaned the fact that no matter how much she seemed to drink out of the glass bottle in front of her, it had not appeared to get any emptier.

She recalled explaining to Buffy that the situation was strange, that everything was currently too much for her brain to handle at once, but she was determined to do whatever it took to help Tara. She stopped just short of letting Buffy in on what she herself already knew about the nature of the dimension they found themselves in. The Slayer for her part did not press for more information but had given the redhead a quick, but tight embrace and told her to be careful before disappearing back down the stairs.

When Tara had returned, she had come back alone and they had continued their conversation long enough for Willow to believe that they were the only two people in the universe only to be interrupted by a lanky medium complexioned woman the redhead recognized as having been one of the performers on stage. The woman had a dreamy look on her face as she had sat, uninvited at their table, cutting Willow off mid sentence in favor of speaking in a hushed voice that only Tara could hear.

The redhead may have been totally naive about nearly everything at least once or seven times in her life, but she most certainly recognized flirting when she saw it and the tan woman had her glassy mahogany eyes set on the blonde in front of her. Willow had not known how to react. Part of her had been hurt, another part indignant, and all of that had anger holding it together. She had known also, that it was not her place to say anything about the exchange. She may have been on a mission to save Tara's soul, but Tara no longer knew who she was, she had to start over from scratch so she had clenched her jaw, cursed the Fates in her mind and tried desperately not to eavesdrop.

Snooping, as it had turned out, had been unnecessary as the blonde showed as much interest in the hipster woman's presence as Willow did, if not less. Tara had shook her head firmly at the tall woman and promptly turned her full attention back to the redhead, ignoring the other woman completely. Willow had wanted to stop the smug smile that found its way to her face, but it slid into position regardless as the woman stood up briskly and mumbled something to Tara so low that the redhead had only caught the tail end of, something about money.

The blonde had given Willow a winsomely apologetic smile before standing up and placing her index and forefinger on the raven haired woman's forehead and muttered something back which despite straining, the younger witch had not heard at all. A flash of blue light so quick, it would have been missed by anyone who had been blinking left the blonde's fingertips and shot into the other woman's forehead which caused her whole head to jerk back suddenly before she leaned forward, clutching at her temples and moaning lowly, as if in pain. She gripped the edge of the table for a few moments before the feeling appeared to subside and she winced up at the blonde, nodding her head slowly and apologizing profusely to Willow for having interrupted.

If the redhead had not already worn her overtaxed brain out on what Dawn had once dubbed 'double you tee eff' moments, she did not doubt that she would have fainted or gone into full shock at what had happened. Thankfully, the alcohol and the stress had made her mind complacent and she merely quelled the urge to giggle as Tara collected their bottles (which had yet to be emptied) and suggested they go outside. Eventually, they had ended up in Tara's car on the way to the blonde's house after Willow had expressed an interest in several books she had heard mention of, but had never heard of let alone seen in her own dimension.

"I think it's your fault if I'm drunk." Willow grumbled good-naturedly, bringing her focus back to the present as the car lurched forward again and she uncovered her nose. "My bottle _somehow_ kept getting refilled." She grinned into the night air. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a warning bell went off, but everything felt so good, so right, that she was more than happy to ignore it.

Beside her, she heard Tara scoff loudly, as if she were in a play. "I'm not sure what you're implying, Miss Rosenburg. What kind of girl do you take me for?"

Willow opened her eyes, the wind forcing jets of air underneath her eyelids as she looked up at the purple black sky, the bright orange glow of the streetlights bouncing off the clouds and spilling light onto her face as they passed each one. "I'm not sure anymore," she replied honestly and without thinking. "You're different."

"Different than what?" the question was spoken softly, delicately, as if Tara knew that if she spoke too loud or too quickly, the issue would be dropped.

"Dunno." The redhead said catching her slip anyway. She pulled her head back into the car to lean back in her seat and stare out of the moon roof at the passing streetlights and what small amount of stars were visible through the light pollution and the few scattered clouds. "Not evil, just different."

She supposed it was all right if she made it known that she knew about the nature of the dimension. After all, Tara was _not_ evil. It clung to her heavily; though she could not see it, Willow could feel it. She had wanted to ask if that bothered Tara at all, if she longed to be like everyone else in this dimension. She had wanted to ask if Tara could feel the darkness from _her_ or the goodness from Buffy, but thought better of it since she was not sure she was ready for those kinds of answers just yet. At least _this_ she could do.

Tara smiled softly though Willow's emerald colored gaze was ruminating on the expansive sky above them. When she had sent Amy to bring Willow and her friend back to the table, a plan had formed in her mind, simple, but clearly effective. Whatever had happened to the redhead before coming here, she obviously did not want to delve into but Tara was not stupid and saw the impact she had on her. At the magic shop, she had almost mistaken it for fear, but after what had happened in the car when she had brought Willow back to the Amphora, she realized that the mysterious force that caused her to feel drawn to the younger witch was the same force that made Willow nervous around her.

She had done it earlier in the day almost unconsciously, while Willow had been crying silently with her forehead pressed against the glass window, eyes squeezed shut against the world. Tara had wanted to help in some way, so she had done the only thing she could think of at the moment, and that was to send some of her energy towards the redhead. Willow had accepted the ministrations so readily that the redhead had not even noticed it was going on, but Tara had seen the change in her demeanor, how her shoulders relaxed from their tensed position and she seemed to look around them as if actually _seeing_ the world rather than merely _observing_ it.

She honestly had not planned to see the other woman at the Bronze, but when the opportunity presented itself, she could not pass it up in good conscience. Tara had not wanted to risk Willow rejecting the energy just in case, so she had been plying the redhead with alcohol while simultaneously sending waves of her own energy at the other woman. Tara received some of it back the more Willow became open to the connection and the blonde could now understand why Willow had been chosen.

The redhead's darkness was deep seeded and seemed to be starving, aching to devour the light in her. Curious, Tara had touched some of that energy also, careful not to rouse the other woman's suspicion. The small taste she had gotten had set her own nerves into overdrive; her goodness was as deep as her darkness, if not more so. There was no doubt in Tara's mind that Willow was much stronger than she gave herself credit for and a curious sense of pride had washed over her. She knew Willow could learn a lot from her and she certainly had things she wanted to learn from and about the young witch.

"Different can be good though." Willow said as the car turned onto the quiet street Tara lived on. "Change isn't always bad."


	10. Sleepover

Tara's house was a small one-story brick affair trimmed in light blue with a well-kept row of hedges on either side of the stone walkway they were ambling which ended at the front door. Willow leaned her back against the white porch railing and stared out at the closed yellow buds of some manner of plant she could not identify that grew in an overgrown flowerbed underneath one of the windows. Next to her, she heard the blonde fumble with her keys as she attempted to unlock the door.

Willow crossed her arms over her chest and slumped contentedly against the wooden beam. It might have been the alcohol talking, but the redhead felt different, almost at peace, almost as if she was where she belonged. She felt Tara's gaze on her back so she turned to find the blonde smiling softly, holding the door open for her. Willow returned the smile, and slid past her into the living room beyond.

The whole day, she had been feeling a little strange. Not only at the shock of seeing Tara alive, but also at whatever had happened in the blonde's car when they had gone back to the hotel. Willow was sure something had happened when she had been wrapped up in her grief, but she could not place it. The feeling was familiar but different all at the same time. Something in her mind told her that she should examine the cause and find out what was going on, but the truth was that she had not felt that at ease in so long, that she did not care to pay attention to any warning signals her brain was sending her.

She nodded her head at Tara when the blonde offered to pour them some wine and watched her saunter down the short, beige carpeted hallway and into the kitchen which was blocked off from the living room by a wooden bar counter. Willow slipped off her shoes and put them next to where Tara had taken hers off upon entry and surveyed the living room. The light from the kitchen would have been enough half-light, but Tara had flipped a switch in the kitchen when she saw Willow take her shoes off and a soft yellow glow illuminated from the bulb of a glass-ceiling fixture overhead.

There was a long blue couch in front of her with a matching armchair underneath the living room window and loveseat across the room from her. Bookshelves lined the wall, all of them full; an expensive looking stereo sat next to the armchair, it too, was serving as another bookshelf. A small desk in the corner held a mess of open notebooks and a small laptop whose screen appeared rather dusty.

"I don't use it very much." Tara admitted sheepishly, coming back into the living room with two wine glasses.

Willow smiled and took the glass offered to her. "Not much for the internet, huh?"

Tara shook her head and shrugged. "All the bad spelling is depressing."

The redhead felt herself grin widely. Maybe Tara was not _that_ different. She regarded the blonde warmly, watching her as she sat sideways on one end of the couch, crossing her legs in front of her. They watched each other for a few moments, but it was Willow who blushed and turned away first. "So…so where's the book you were talking about?" she said, clearing her throat and turning to scan the nearest bookshelf.

Tara snickered. "I think it's in my room…but you'd better stay out here...I don't want to give you a heart attack."

Willow's blush deepened enough that her ears felt hot. She took a gulp of the wine in her glass and managed to eek out a chuckle that sounded half-sincere as she heard the blonde get up from the couch and move out of earshot. _"Oh God, what am I doing here? I'm not…I can't…" _she took a deep breath and a smaller, but fortifying, sip of wine. _"Stop. I'm here already…I CAN, I have to…She needs my help. She…"_

"Willow?" Tara called softly from behind her.

The second she heard Tara's voice, something washed over her. It felt like energy, it felt like Tara, but there was something on the heels her energy that touched the darkness. It was fleeting but it felt good. It felt divine. As she watched the blonde smile, a thick book tucked under one arm; Willow could not remember why she had been feeling so anxious before. Even in this hell dimension, she could be in heaven. Maybe Tara was not even in any real danger; perhaps this had all been nothing more than an elaborate attempt to reunite them.

Feeling slightly woozy, the redhead shuffled over to the couch and sat next to Tara as the blonde opened the book over their laps and began to flip through the pages, looking for something. Willow drained what was left in her glass and set it gently on the floor next to Tara's empty glass before focusing her attention on watching the woman next to her. She felt more at ease in that moment than she had in recent memory and she only vaguely heard herself sigh contentedly.

"Look!" Tara was saying, her finger pointing triumphantly at one of the pictures in the book on her knees. "I told you, _that_ one is the health line. The _other_ one is the fate line." She tapped finger on top of the picture once more to emphasize her point.

Willow leaned over and peered at the picture herself. Tara was right, she had always been right about practical things like palms and auras. The redhead just found herself too impatient to get to the _magic_ part of magic. Still, she did not like being proven wrong, it was a great source of pride to her that she knew a lot about some things and a little about everything. She blew out a puff of air and leaned back on the couch, drawing her legs underneath her.

"Don't be grumpy." Tara laughed, unfazed by the beginnings of the small tantrum and reaching for the redhead's right hand. "Here, let me read your palm. An apology palmistry!"

Willow tried to squirm her hand away from Tara but found the action futile. "I…I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"You don't seem to think _anything_ is a good idea. Just trust me." The blonde retorted, capturing Willow's wrist lightly and turning her hand palm side up.

The redhead watched her frown slightly as she sucked a corner of her lower lip into her mouth. She was nervous about something; she only did that when she was feeling on edge. Willow chose to remain silent though, until Tara looked up at her, a hint of confusion on her face.

"I mean…I don't want to m-make you do anything that you don't want to." She said quietly, dropping the redhead's hand. What was wrong with her? She averted her gaze and was contemplating another glass of wine when she heard Willow's soft chuckle next to her. Tara turned, expecting Willow to be mocking her and instead finding her grinning lopsidedly with her hand stuck out in front of her like a peace offering or the gentle gesture of a Buddha statue. The blonde could not recall anyone who had ever looked at her like that in her life.

She knew what lust looked like, and while she had seen flashes of it, this was not lust. She knew what falseness, mockery, and tolerance looked like, but she had never seen a look like the one Willow was giving her. The redhead was smiling in such a way that it seemed to touch her eyes, which Tara had not even been aware was possible. Her head tilted slightly to one side and she had stopped giggling long enough for her mouth to have shifted into an innocent grin with coquettish undertones.

The thing that astounded the blonde most though, were the redhead's eyes. They seemed like endless wells of vibrant green and looking into them, she was sure she could feel some of the energy she had touched in Willow, but she was not drawing it out, it was being projected _at _her. She did not know what the expression on Willow's face meant exactly, but it made her head feel light and a sort of flying feeling grip her chest and she found lips turning up into a matching grin. Why would anyone want to get rid of the light in Willow? She coexisted with the darkness well enough to fit in here, what stopped her from being Queen of Hell whenever she wanted it?

"Okay, Tare. I trust you."

Tara smiled wider and wondered why she felt that sentence was so important. Maybe not the words themselves, but certainly who was _speaking_ the words. She shook her head at herself and plopping the book on the floor before grabbing Willow's right hand in both of hers.

There was complete silence throughout the room that echoed noiselessly off the walls and reverberated through the house as the blonde concentrated hard on Willow's palm, one hand holding hers steady and the fingertips of the other dancing lightly over the dashes and lines on her hand and fingers. The redhead watched her with growing adoration for the way she wrinkled her forehead and muttered to herself when she was concentrating very hard on something. It was not until she saw Tara suck a corner of her lower lip into her mouth and shake her head that she spoke.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly, though her voice sounded loud after the prolonged silence.

Tara looked up and dropped their hands to the couch, still holding onto the back of Willow's hand and resting her other hand on top of the upturned palm. "I'm not…" she sighed and looked away.

Willow squeezed the hand resting in her palm, coaxing the blonde's gaze to meet hers. "Hey, come on. We're supposed to be…friends…_good _friends." She smiled slightly. "Whatever it is can't be any worse than what I've already been through. Just tell me what you saw."

"Death." She replied softly.

"Oooor, it could be the exact _same_ as what I've already been through."

"It's not you."

"Huh?"

"The death, it's not you that dies. It's hundreds, maybe thousands of people, but not you."

Willow paled. "You got all that from the lines in my hand?"

"Yes…no, it's not that simple…"

"Well why is that on _my_ hand?"

"Be-because it will be by _your_ hand."

"What? Are you sure about that? I can't, I'm not….I don't anymore!"

Tara frowned, not knowing what Willow was referring to but was becoming upset merely because _she_ was upset. It was an odd sensation. "That wasn't all there was, i-it's…that just s-startled me."

"I dunno if I…" Willow started after a deep breath. "Okay, tell me what else."

Tara raised their hands again to study the palm in front of her. She ran her index finger along a long line near the redhead's thumb. "You're lucky." She started quietly, sounding a tad wistful. "You had a soulmate…" she trailed her finger down to where the line became jagged before running straight again. "Have." She corrected herself. "Something…something terrible happened to him which made something terrible happen to you but…"

"Her." Willow interjected, causing the blonde to look up. Tara noticed that the redhead had the Buddha statue look on her face again though she looked near tears and the blonde felt her eyes well up with loss too, even if she did not know why she felt she had lost something also.

_"What's wrong with me?"_ Tara asked herself, sniffing helplessly, aggravated that her eyes filled with tears faster than she could blink them away. _"I haven't cried in…in a long time…It's _her_ she…wait, her?" _ "Her?" the blonde mumbled quietly, not particularly expecting an answer.

"Yes…her…she was…" Willow swallowed hard, not sure if she should continue; how was she supposed to explain the death of her soulmate to her soulmate? Perhaps that was a conversation best saved for another day. She shook her head gently but gave the blonde a sincere smile to show she was not dodging the question. "What else? I interrupted you."

Tara stared hard at the woman next to her for a few moments, watching Willow watch her. She felt suddenly, as if she were trying to solve a very complex riddle that mocked you with iambic rhymes and when she finally found the answer, she would feel stupid at not having figured it out earlier. The answer was right in front of her, just barely out of reach, but the worst thing was that Tara did not even know the riddle in the first place, let alone the answer that she was supposed to provide. Something inside her told her that the answers were with the redhead, but without the question, how was she supposed to know what the answers were?

The blonde witch ducked her head and cleared her throat before straightening her shoulders and continuing her examination of Willow's palm. "I thought…I thought at first that you had lost her…" she moved a finger over the sharp slash across her love line. "I thought she…_died_." Tara felt her chest tighten and the back of her neck tingle, the thought chilled her though she was not sure why. "But it just seemed that way. Y-you find her again a-and then…"

"And then what?"

Tara crinkled her forehead. "And then…you pick."

"Pick what?"

"I'm not really sure, actually." She seemed disturbed by her own admission. "Something is going to happen either way. One of them leads this way" she drifted her finger in one direction across Willow's palm. "Which ends in the death of thousands, but it also goes…this way." She pulled her finger in another direction and followed it as it twisted. "Which is harder than the first way, but if you go this way, you'll find your purpose."

They were silent for a few minutes, but it was not deafening. It was warm and even comfortable. Willow stared at her own palm in contemplation, surprised at her own calm. Whatever was going to happen, at least she knew Tara was all right and despite the older woman having been stuck in another dimension with no real memory of her former self, Willow just _knew_ that the blonde's soul remembered her and she would just have to help her brain catch up.

To her, it seemed as if Tara knew that she did not fit in completely with everyone else around her. As if she knew she was missing something and was struggling to recall memories her mind simply did not have.

_"It might take a longer than I expected." _Willow mused to herself, trying to keep a smile at bay as Tara realized she was still clasped onto the redhead's hand and tenderly extricated her hands from Willow and folded them in her lap. _"Not that I'd really mind I guess…It's definitely not bad as far as hell dimensions go, I don't know how to get back, even if I wanted to at this point, Tara's here, Buffy is treating me like a human being instead of a…not…human…being. So far, there're more pros than cons."_

She knew that things were not truly absolved between her and Buffy. The Slayer was allowing the awkwardness and the real reason for her distance to stay stagnant with their own dimension. Willow was sure that once they got back to their Sunnydale, jut like time, the 'problem' would start again. That thought combined with the strange energy she had felt, alcohol, and the copious amounts of overexertion that day, took their toll quite suddenly and forcefully, causing her eyes to slip shut and her head to nod.

"You should have told me I was boring you." Tara giggled next to her.

Willow yawned around the smile on her face. "You weren't. If you had been boring me, I would have left _ages_ ago." She closed her eyes and tilted her head sideways to rest it on the back of the couch.

"Well that makes me flattered instead of offended. Nice save!"

The younger witch chuckled sleepily and blinked her eyes a few times to try to get them to stay open. "Why thank you. What time is it?"

Tara got up from the couch, taking their empty glasses and placing them on the granite bar counter, half leaning across it so she could check the clock on the stove. "Four in the morning." She replied, going back into the living room, but not sitting down. She was not sure how to read Willow's expression, but she appeared mildly surprised. "Do…do you want me to take you back to the Amphora?" She jerked a thumb behind her with one hand and twisted the bottom of her shirt in the other.

Willow found the gesture completely endearing. "Well…I mean…I've basically already spent the night."

The blonde smiled and seemed to lose some of the tension in her gestures. "Yeah, I guess you have, you little sneak. I'll…I'll go get you something else to wear and some blankets, okay?"

The redhead nodded and watched Tara make her way past the kitchen, flipping off the living room light on her way and leaving only the illumination from the kitchen until a horizontal pool of muted yellow permeating the darkness told Willow that she was in another room. The redhead sighed and sank into a laying position. Something still felt off and dangerous about the whole situation, but things were finally looking up for once, and it made her feel almost serene. She was asleep before Tara came back with the blankets.


	11. Revelations

**AN:** thanks for all the reviews =D also, there's a flashback in this chapter which is noted by *** instead of the normal chapter break of * that I've been using and it's written in italics. I hope that's not too confusing! Sorry again about the lack of regular updates, hopefully, this chapter'll make up for it since it's extra long. If you've sent me an email, I address it at the end. I got a few with the same question which was actually kinda surprising since I was pretty sure was unofficially writing for Rikkustar lol ;) Kay, story time!

Willow awoke slowly, yawning languidly before blinking her eyes open, squinting against the sudden onslaught of the bright sunlight streaming in from the window. Rubbing the spots out of her eyes, she pulled herself into a sitting position, throwing off a soft white blanket she had some how acquired. The sounds of cooking and soft humming coaxed Willow into standing up, yawning one final time, and shuffling off to the kitchen.

She leaned against the doorframe to the kitchen and watched the older witch. Tara was fussing over the stove, dropping mix from a blue bowl on the counter onto a skillet and deliberating carefully over the result. The blonde must have been up for a while as she was wearing new clothes and her hair looked as if it were still slightly damp from a shower. She had not turned around so the redhead did not make a sound, simply content at watching her move gracefully around the room, humming to herself. The tune she was humming was instantly recognizable to Willow, though it sounded slightly different.

_"From when Xander summoned Sweet…and we were in the park…" _she thought fondly, a grin spreading over her features. _"No matter what the Fates said, she _has_ remembered me. She's remembered us." _

"Welcome to the world, Sleeping Beauty." Tara said upon noticing the redhead's presence. She inclined her head towards a chair on the kitchen side of the bar, which Willow sat on obligingly.

"Whatcha making?" she asked from her perch, half raising herself up to look, but not standing. Her stomach flip-flopped and Willow felt giddy. She had become unused to the idea of being on the edge of happiness, but now that she was there, the familiarity of it made her swoon.

Tara flipped what was in the pan and smiled over her shoulder. "Pancakes. I hope you like funny-shapes. I started making rounds, but there was a revolution." she replied.

"A revolution?" Willow snickered.

The blonde harrumphed and turned the burner on the stove off. "I started out making rounds, and all of a sudden the batter usurped my authority and they all started coming out funny-shapes."

"Well, I guess I won't feel bad eating them then, since they're defectors." The younger witch replied, hopping off the stool. She made her way to the counter to help Tara carry the hot plates stacked with oddly shaped pancakes over to the bar where the blonde sat next to her rather than across from her.

"Death to traitors!" she agreed, stabbing one of pancakes with a fork, causing Willow to dissolve into a fit of giggles.

*

Buffy leaned back against the worn wooden bench she was sitting on and closed her eyes, tilting her face to the sky. The Sunnydale she found herself stuck in had more or less the same layout as the one she called home, so she had walked to the park earlier in the day and just had not been able to make herself leave yet. She had followed some of the paths that twisted into the manmade forest that smelled of cold earth, but midday came suddenly and brought a lazy heat with it.

The air even _smelled_ hot, it was thick and it made the Slayer sleepy. She pulled her legs out of the sun and brought her knees up to her chin and into the shade of the huge oak behind her. Even with her eyes closed, Buffy was never truly on autopilot. She could smell beyond the muck of the heated air to a stream nearby that carried tiny wisps of cooler air to her nose. She could hear the low murmurs of people talking from far away, the distance great enough that even she picked up the conversation only as the rise and fall of speech, punctuated by loud laughter every so often. She could hear the heavy breeze push hotly through the trees, and a jogger on the path behind her who was still quite a bit away from the spot she now occupied.

Buffy rarely had time to enjoy her enhanced senses, so when the opportunity presented itself, she delighted in being able to revel in her Slayer abilities without the threat of danger. She had needed to be alone to think, at any rate. She had gone by Willow's room that morning, but the witch had not been there. Buffy was curious about that, unsure of whether that was a good thing or not.

She hoped that the missing redhead was a sign of providence and that she was with Tara some place. Buffy was of course relieved that the once demure Tara was alive and aside from the amnesia, was doing all right. After all, they had been friends as well and she too had missed her. It was clear to the Slayer however, that the once shy woman was different. She could not put her finger on it exactly, but something aside from the normally soft-spoken witches change in demeanor did not sit right with her. She figured that she was just not used to this new Tara, or this new situation, but something told her it was more than that.

She sighed heavily, rested her forehead on her knees, and squeezed her eyes shut tighter still. She hated feeling out of control of this unwanted adventure. Buffy recalled momentarily, a time when she was much younger, pigtailed and full of a sort of pompousness that only a child could possess and wanting to know everything everyone else was doing at all times.

Whenever her parents were speaking in hushed voices in another room, she remembered thinking up lists of excuses to position herself within eavesdropping range and she would just be getting to the good parts of the grown up dramas that at the time, she had been eager to participate in, when they would notice her. Immediately, they would start spelling.

At the time, she had been too young to spell anything other than her name, a few colors, some animals and the names of a few of her classmates. She had a hard enough time trying to mentally picture the shapes and proper positions of the letters to form what words she _could_ spell and knew she had no hope of trying to decipher the long strings of seemingly random letters her parents always let out when she went into the room. It was frustrating. She felt like that now, she realized. If she could only figure out what was being spelled out for her, the situation would make perfect sense.

Buffy sighed and tried to even her breathing, using a technique Giles had taught her to clear her mind of the mental clutter and problems she was not ready to face. The smell of hot dogs from some place far off combined with the syrupy heat made her feel sickeningly lightheaded. She breathed through her mouth, listening intently to the air that rushed almost noiselessly between her lips. Her consciousness quieted and wandered away from the world around her, as she lapsed into a semi meditative state with her arms around her legs, her forehead pressed to her knees and her knees pulled to her chest.

She imagined she was a meditating monk, sitting on top of some ancient mountain to converse with the universe, as permanent and immovable as the monolith upon which she sat. She envisioned herself as a Peruvian mummy strapped to a craggy arid cliff face with ropes of animal skin, forcing her into an eternal sitting position while everything about her wasted into an unrecognizable museum display of bleach white bones. There was another breeze, so muggy it was wet and Buffy opened her eyes as her concentration wavered. She was not a monk or a mummy. She was just a woman who had more than she felt she could handle on her shoulders. She wiped a hand over her face; it was too hot.

Yawning, the Slayer stretched and eased herself off the bench, feeling the sticky air press down on her and reluctantly strolled out of the shade of the tree, blocking her eyes from the sun for a moment with her hand over her brow. Letting out a huff of air past her closed lips, she jammed her hands in her pockets and started back towards the hotel, already feeling the prickle of sweat on her back for her troubles. Buffy walked slowly, trying to conserve as much energy as possible and making a sort of game out of seeing which movements propelled her faster without as much work.

Walking had always helped her think and the Slayer had a lot of thinking to do. The whole day, Buffy had been pondering heavily everything the Fates had told her. She had played at not listening, but every word they had spoken to her she had dutifully memorized. Everything they had said seemed important; especially what she was keeping from Willow.

The petite blonde had debated on whether or not to speak of how the Fate's had entrusted her to save the redhead's soul, but had ultimately decided against it as it would require explanation of what _else_ they had told her.

_***_

_"Hold on, hold on, hold on…" Buffy said quickly, shifting her weight to one foot. Higher beings irritated her. She did not care if they were enlightened or Divine or omnipotent… they irritated her. Granted, the Fates seemed a tad more amiable than what she normally dealt with, but their mystic gobbledygook was familiar enough to aggravate her. She touched the tips of her index fingers together._

_"Let me put this in power point format." The Slayer continued. "Willow fell down the rabbit hole and is in some weirdo dimension." She tapped her middle finger on her left hand with the pointer finger of her right as she moved on to the next fact. "Tara is there but basically has amnesia and won't recognize anyone from before she got there. Tara is somehow in danger of losing her soul, which in turn, endangers Willow. Willow is there to save Tara's soul. You want _me_ to go through your little…stargate, or whatever, to…keep Willow from losing _her_ soul. Ammirite?" She hoped that was the gist of it as her index finger was now pressed firmly against her thumb. She had run out of fingers and could therefore not absorb any more information. _

_They had nodded in unison, which had also vexed her. She was convinced that anywhere two or more 'higher' beings convened, simultaneous speaking, head nodding and other gestures were running rampant. It gave her the creeps. Balling her fists and placing them on her hips, she stared petulantly at the Fates._

_"And you can't tell me why all this is going on because you think my fragile mortal brain won't be able to handle knowing my destiny. Even though I've saved the world." She huffed, not caring that she sounded whiny. "Multiple times."_

_Lachesis had smiled serenely and steepled her fingers together. "We know how much you've done not just for your dimension, but for countless others, even though you yourself don't know the scope of your accomplishments." She said gently, taking all the indignant wind out of Buffy's sails. "Though you are able to be killed, able to die, you're not a fragile mortal, Buffy. However, if I reveal your Destiny to you directly instead of letting you find your own path, you run the very high risk of your Destiny being destroyed."_

_"Figures." The blonde mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. _

_"Can't we tell her a little?" Clotho asked, tugging her sister by the wrist. "Just a little…as a show of gratitude?"_

_Lachesis appeared to contemplate the question deeply while staring intently at the mortal in front of her before nodding slightly and stepping forward. "Very well." She said finally. "I can tell you something that will come to pass no matter what you do."_

_The tone in her voice made Buffy frown, though it was subconscious and she had not actually felt the corners of her mouth turn down. She nodded for the dark haired woman to continue. _

_"You're going to kill Willow."_

_Buffy could not help it; she burst out laughing at the revelation, shaking her head and touching a hand to her collarbone. Even when Willow had gone on her rampage, intent on unmaking the world, the Slayer had not _truly_ been certain she could have gone through with killing the witch. What made them think she would do it now? The idea was ridiculous. The collective solemn expressions that stared back at her silenced her snickering immediately. _

_"I won't." Buffy said in a matter-of-fact tone, her previous laughter forgotten. _

_Lachesis nodded and put a gentle hand on her shoulder that the Slayer shrugged off. "You will." The middle Moirae replied soberly. "It is what must be done. I can tell you this because it's going to happen whether you want it to or not. I have seen all your choices and to think otherwise is improbable."_

_"But not impossible!" the Slayer pointed out loudly. "You had to have seen a choice I made where that _didn't_ happen!"_

_"Yes," she admitted reluctantly. "But the chance is so small; it would be like trying to find an eyelash hidden in the desert. It's futile."_

_"No it isn't. If it was futile, you would have said _impossible_ and not improbable." She resumed her annoyed stance, throwing her shoulders back and meeting three sets of eyes defiantly. "Here's the thing, I love Willow. Despite the issues I have, despite what she tried to do, despite what she _has_ done, I love that girl. She's the best friend I've ever had. Even if I never forgive her or never trust her again, I'd still love her. You wouldn't be able to tell the story of Buffy Summers _or_ Buffy the Vampire Slayer without Willow. I _won't_ kill someone I love again."_

_Atropos smiled a motherly smile and shook her head, causing Buffy to deflate a little. "Child," the oldest of the Fates said. "You misunderstand. You must end Willow's life _because_ you love her."_

_"What?" the blonde asked flatly. _

_"You will understand when the time is right. For now, you must work on forgiving her and forgiving yourself. Everything you've done so far has been leading up to this, and this will lead to that and so on. Nothing is by accident. Even things you have brought with you have consequence…" her gentle smile deepened as Buffy patted the spot where she had slipped the already forgotten Demon Link into her pocket. "But regardless of how you get there, the end result will be the same."_

_"Oh no, no." Buffy replied, unfazed. She was nearing the end of her rope with supernatural beings. "At the moment, there'll be no forgiving her and _I _haven't done anything I'd need to forgive myself for. My issues with Willow will work themselves out when we get back to our _own_ dimension."_

_"Buffy," Lachesis said softly. "It's out of your hands; it's out of _my_ hands. Destiny has been written and you can't…"_

_"Stop." The Slayer interrupted, holding up one hand. "Just stop. It's always I can't do this, I'm gonna die that, apocalypse now! I think if you'll take a look at my permanent record, you'll see I got all A's in defying prophesies, beating unbeatable odds, coming back from the dead, and penmanship. I make my _own_ Destiny, Lady. I won't kill her."_

_"You're being foolish." Clotho retorted, frowning deeply. "You see why we don't tell you mortals your destinies?" she let out a breath of exasperated air, but her voice and expression softened as she continued. " Forget about it, you're going to do it, it isn't an option. There's only _one _possibility in which you do not kill Willow, but there are more choices that end in her death than there are grains of sand on the planet and stars in the cosmos combined. So do you see, Buffy? Don't you see how pointless it is to fight it? It is part of your Destiny. Just put it out of your mind and concentrate on forgiving her and protecting her. She must die with a clean conscious."_

_"What _is_ it with you people!? I'll forgive her when I'm good and ready, and I'm _not_ ready right now. If it'll make you feel better, I'll work on it after we get home."_

_Clotho scoffed. "What makes you really think you'll succeed in overthrowing Fate?" she demanded, her childlike voice deadly serious. "Because you're _lucky_? Because you're the _Slayer_?" she chuckled and shook her head. "Buffy, you're not the first slayer who's ever tried to change her Destiny. Even the First Slayer tried." _

_ Clotho's ancient stare, which betrayed her age locked onto the Slayer's rebellious gaze full of the type fire that was available only to organisms with free will and the willingness to give Divine beings the middle finger. _

"_Yes, even she tried." The girl continued, ignoring Buffy's glare that reeled of a mortal defiance she rather admired in lesser beings. "She had no language to call us, but we heard her screaming laments as she fought ancient beasts. We heard the pitying grunts she thought lost to the night as she huddled out in the open. We felt her pain as she childishly attempted to think of ways to curse our very existence. Every slayer since the First Slayer has attempted to rewrite their Destinies, to rearrange the stars and overthrow the Fates. It cannot be done. What makes you certain you can succeed where the other slayers have failed?"_

_Buffy did not attempt to smother the laughter that spilled past her lips. She was not afraid of this eternal child. She was not afraid of any of them. "Because I've got something the other slayers didn't, and it's not just my keen fashion sense."_

"_More determination? More luck? You think you weren't supposed to thwart prophesies or beat insurmountable odds? You forget, child, we only write the destination, not the journey. You've already set yourself on a path that will prove us right in the end. So tell me, what could you _possibly_ have that none of the other slayers did?"_

_Buffy smiled slightly and shook her head. Some things, higher beings simply did not have the capacity to understand in the way they were meant to be understood. "Friends." She replied simply, daring them to question her. "No slayer in the history of slayering ever had real friends. I wouldn't expect you types to be horribly familiar with the concept, but it's helped me save the world a buncha times and it's kept me alive longer than any other slayer and it's brought me back from the dead twice. So the question isn't: what makes me think I'm going to succeed, it's: what are _you_ gonna do once I _do_ succeed?"_

_The Fates let out a collective sigh, but it was Lachesis who spoke. "You don't understand. Buffy…"_

_"No. I understand perfectly well. Now blow some pixie dust at me or shake a chicken wing or whatever it is you need to do so I can help Willow find a way back home."_

_Lachesis sighed, but relented and waved her hand towards the temple entrance, which immediately transformed into a portal ablaze with loud energy. Without looking behind her, Buffy had strode confidently into the swirling purple abyss, forgetting the final reminder to forgive Willow as soon as she was dropped unceremoniously to the ground in the middle of the woods. _

_***_

Even now, she wanted to chuckle a little at the absurdity of the notion that she would willingly kill the redhead. Buffy paused for a moment to blink her eyes heavily. She felt like she may as well have been swimming down the street. It was far too hot and the sweat that beaded on her face and neck joined and slipped down her neck faster than she could wipe it away.

Looking around, she noticed that there were not many people on the street besides her. There was a short man holding an umbrella over his head for shade moving sluggishly towards some unknown destination across the street and a woman headed in the opposite direction, bent slightly to protect herself from the humid wind that she was walking into.

Other than the three of them, the streets were deserted; she heard no cars or voices and even the birds seemed silent. There was no sound but the soft shuffle of the people across the street on their way to somewhere else. Sighing, Buffy yawned and resumed her journey back to her hotel room; she was suddenly sleepy and the air made her mouth taste like copper.

She pulled her focus away from the hazy invisible lines that writhed above the hot asphalt and dissipated into the cloudless sky in favor of watching her shoes as she walked, trying to keep a mental tally of how many cracks she had stepped on. Simultaneously, she was running through all the things that could happen to make her kill Willow.

They had seemed adamant about her forgiving Willow. Perhaps, if she held onto her self-consciousness and her grudges against not only herself, but also the witch, they could find a way back home and begin the healing process there. The truth was that Buffy _wanted_ to forgive Willow, she truly did, but her self-perceived shortcomings as a friend and as a slayer stopped her.

Part of her felt selfish for trying to grasp onto any reason to keep things the way they were and another part was terrified at the prospect of the Fates being correct. Why was it so important that she forgive Willow? What would happen if she did not forgive Willow and the witch died? What would she do or had she done that required her to forgive herself? What role did the Demon Link, secretly tucked away in her nightstand back at the Amphora, have to play?

The eldest of the Fates had not spoken of the Energumen Eye directly, but Buffy had brought nothing else with her, which made the necklace the only thing possible to which the matronly woman had been alluding. The more she looked for answers, the more questions the petite blonde felt she was left with. Weary, she lifted her gaze and saw the hotel at the end of the street. Hoping to lose herself to sleep for a while and feeling like an animated lead paperweight, the Slayer forced her limbs to drag her ever closer to the Amphora, and whatever lay ahead.

*

Willow sat cross-legged on the couch, turned sideways so she could rest lay head against the backrest with her eyes closed. The silence was punctuated every so often by the sound of turning pages from the other side of the couch. Eating had taken longer than expected as they had spent most of the time talking rather than shoveling food into their mouths.

Eventually, they had migrated away from the kitchen with the intention of Tara taking her back to the hotel. The second Willow had opened the door however, she was accosted with a wall of heated air so bloated, it pushed her backwards and she felt like it was going _through_ her, rather than around. Instantaneously, she felt it gumming up her lungs and causing her to cough uncontrollably when she tried to call out. The blonde was at her side in an instant, covering her own nose with one hand while she helped Willow up with the other, simultaneously kicking the door closed with a foot.

Dizzy, the redhead had gratefully allowed herself to be led over to the couch where she hacked and wheezed for a few moments before asking what had happened. Tara explained that there was so much evil concentrated in the Hellmouth underneath the earthen bowels of that version of Sunnydale that during the day, like a timed heat wave, the energy would escape from it's prison underground and form a literal evil wind.

The blonde had explained carefully that even though the phenomenon occurred randomly everywhere, it was so bad in Sunnydale that there were only a hand full of people who even had the constitution required to breathe the air when it got that bad. Willow had still been focusing on trying to regain her breath and quell her lightheadedness that she had failed to note the older witches careful turn of phrase; as if the blonde knew that the matter had to be explained in depth.

Tara had gotten her a glass of cool water and told her to take it easy as even a short exposure to the evil wind had the ability to sap energy almost completely. They would have to wait to leave until after the sun went down and the colder night air regulated the oven like zephyr into something more manageable.

So they had talked. The redhead was actually surprised at how easy it was to slip back into the familiarity of conversing and bantering with Tara. She was careful not to reveal too much, about where she had come from, but the older witch had been far more interested in Willow herself and where she was going rather than where she had been. They had been talking so long that the light coming through the white metal blinds in the living room had gone from a bright white, to an orangish amber that made Willow feel like she was inside a pumpkin.

Tara was in the process of looking for something in a magic book bound in dark blue leather to emphasize a point she was trying to make, but was apparently at a loss to find what she was looking for as she had been mumbling and humming tunelessly to herself for the better part of five minutes. The quiet, punctuated only by the rustle of pages turning and the smooth sound Tara's hand made as she slid it down the pages made Willow sleepy and she had closed her eyes, resting her head on the back of the couch.

The younger Wicca scarcely heard the blonde snap the book shut softly, nor did she actually register the shift of the cushions beneath her as Tara leaned forward. It was not until she felt the gentle shake of a hand on her shoulder that Willow snapped her eyes open and sat up quickly, startled by her surroundings and inducing a small coughing fit.

She took a heaving ragged breath and gave a final cough that expelled some of the thick air still trapped in her chest. "Sorry," she managed sheepishly, clearing her throat a few times. "I didn't think I was still tired..."

Tara gave her a honeyed smile and shrugged slightly. The waning light that filtered through the blinds behind her outlined her frame like an angel on fire. "Don't feel bad, it's not you." She explained, letting her hand fall from Willow's shoulder and onto the redhead's knee. "You got a pretty big lungful of the evil wind…There's probably some still going through your system. It'll all come out okay when you cough hard enough, but it's a bit like having a bad concussion so it's better if you don't go to sleep."

"Oh." Willow replied, giving the word two syllables. "I guess I'll never complain about icky flu coughs then…" Willow watched her under a lidded gaze for what felt like forever. Tara was looking at her rather peculiarly. She felt like she should be worried, but it was hard to concentrate on weirdo looks or slipping into a coma with the blonde's hand on her knee. She was fascinated by the contrast of Tara's pale hand to the dark material of the skirt she had been wearing since last night. She flushed slightly and the blonde removed her hand.

"Do you want some more water?" she asked, already preparing herself to get off the couch.

"No, no, that's okay. I'm pretty sure I'm done with coughing for right now…" the redhead trailed off, turning towards the window and noticing that the room had grown darker. Had the sun gone down faster than she was used to or had she just not been paying attention?

"D-do you want me to take you back now? I…I think it might be okay now, since the sun went down."

Willow pulled her thoughts and eyes away from the window and back to the woman next to her. The now half-purple light made Tara's eyes and hair seem darker than normal, almost blackish. Something inside her stirred, but she was not sure what it was or where it originated from, so she ignored it and smiled instead.

"I don't really want to go back yet." She replied just as the blonde had begun to start gnawing on her lower lip. "I mean…I don't want to impose or anything. I think I do that sometimes…impose I mean. I know everyone has a time constraint on how much quality Willow time they can have in a given day and if I've maxed yours out, we can… I can go?" As she spoke, Willow got off the couch, increasingly convincing herself that she had overstayed her welcome.

Tara chuckled demurely and gently pulled the redhead back down to the couch by the wrist. "It's okay, Willow." She responded, unable to suppress a grin as the lithe witch appeared to relax immediately and sink back into her previous position. "I like having you around…if I didn't, you wouldn't be here."

The smaller woman nodded dumbly. It made sense, of course. Tara no longer seemed to be the over accommodating woman she had been so it was not much of a strain for Willow to believe that if the blonde had not wanted her there, that she would have never even seen the inside of the woman's car. Her leg muscles twitched unconsciously in an effort to spur her into getting back up, but the rest of her brain blocked the impulse.

"Well..." the redhead replied, very aware that Tara was still gripping her wrist but the hold was loose enough so that she could pull free without being rude, if she wanted. "I like being around you, so I guess it works out…I missed…" she stopped and closed her mouth before her tongue could betray her and pronounce the word 'you.' "Talking." She said instead. "I mean, having good…talking type conversations…"

Truthfully, Tara had been anticipating the word 'you.' Several times throughout the day while they had been talking about everything and nothing, she had noticed Willow's habit of trailing off suddenly before starting again and reforming her sentence into something that sounded awkward and only half-true. She felt that there was more to the redhead and the situation than either Maxwell or Eurynomus had originally told her, though she was ready to believe Maxwell was probably ignorant to the pale demon's actual plans.

She was not sure what her actual _job_ was supposed to be. It was clear that although Willow struggled with her darkness, she fed off it and in turn, it greedily devoured anything she happened to feed it. The energy she had been sending the younger Wicca had been arguably nonexistent in terms of darkness. The point had been to get Willow used to her energy signature enough that she would accept darkness when it was given to her; at least, in small doses.

The readiness with which the redhead not only accepted Tara's energy, but did so without thinking and with great familiarity, confused the blonde. It had been just the other day, though it seemed further away now; that Tara had really noticed that her déjà vu had not been one sided and therefore probably well founded in something…but what?

Whatever was happening, it was affecting both of them and the blonde was unsure of what to make of that. The simple act of letting Willow sleep on her couch was tantamount to the rapid changes going on around her. The blonde had always been something of a loner. Growing up, it had just been her and her mother. She had watery memories of a father and a brother, but she and her mother had left in the middle of the night when she was a toddler and from what she remembered, with good reason. From then on, it had just been her and her mother until she was seventeen.

She supposed that in a way, she had been lucky. Even before her mother's death, Tara had a reputation for being a 'dealer,' and when she started using her abilities to pay for a hotel room; she had met Maxwell who set her up with a job. Still, in the five years she had been on her own, Tara had never once brought anyone back to her house. Even Maxwell had never seen beyond the brief glimpses of the living room when she opened and closed the door.

Something about Willow made the blonde want to draw her in, to hang onto her. It was not that she particularly wonted for company; any one of her clients would have fallen over themselves at the chance, but Tara had never met anyone that stirred her enough to even consider anything more than the rare and ill advised flings she used to have in her youth. She had invited the redhead over without thinking and without regretting it.

She was not stupid; she knew that she also affected Willow in some way. She was not oblivious to the longing glances the Wicca thought she was giving on the sly, or the facial expression she now privately referred to as 'the Buddha.' Though she did not fully comprehend the expression, she understood it intrinsically.

Then there was the matter of energy. Tara's ability to read people's energies and their potential for power had been what set her apart from everyone else. Most dealers from the low-level warlock scum, to the semi respectable ones in the yellow pages did not have the capability she did to give people exactly what they _craved_ and not what they necessarily wanted. It had skyrocketed her to the social strata of Sunnydale's population almost literally overnight.

She had intended to approach this situation with the same mechanical professionalism with which she dealt with clients. The first step was to read their energies and auras in such a manner that they had no choice but to reveal what they desired and not what they thought they wanted at that moment. Normally, such intense probing required her full concentration and grounding herself by putting her hands on the client's temples while fixing her gaze onto their eyes.

With Willow, that seemed unnecessary. Tara took the redhead's spiritual accoutrement at face value. The blonde _trusted_ her immediately even though up until their staged meeting, she had only ever trusted herself and her mother. That was strange enough by itself without adding the perplexing feelings the younger witch created and still, there was more.

When Tara had first offered her energy to the redhead in an attempt to find a way of comforting her, the blonde had noticed several things. First, that giving of _herself_ had been her primary reaction. Second, that Willow had not noticed on a conscious level. It had not been until after the other woman had gotten out of the car that she had truly registered what had transpired.

Willow had not been so distraught that she had been an unwitting participant in Tara's actions. The blonde sensed that the would be queen would have been fairly sensitive to the action. Willow had been _seeking out_ her energy. While it was true that Tara had sent out small parts of it, Willow's energy had latched onto hers in an unconstrained way that betrayed a much deeper connection that Tara felt.

Although she had been intensely curious, Tara had resolved to only test the boundaries of their connection as it would have obvious use in her mission. When she had seen the redhead at the Bronze, she decided that then was as good a time as any to begin the process. The alcohol had been plied to make her a tad more receptive should the blonde sent too much and to keep her from fainting again in equal measures.

No matter how many times Tara sent out her energy or how much she sent, Willow had promptly and willingly accepted it. If the blonde had not been so good at reading people, she would have sworn that she had been found out and the redhead was toying with her but all of Willow's actions were genuinely subconscious. If anything, when the redhead was aware of their entanglement, she took great pains to extricate herself in a way that the blonde was obviously not supposed to notice. It was clear that the embarrassed Wicca had thought _she_ had been the one grasping for Tara's energy.

Even now, in the darkness of her living room she could feel the sweet woman trying to disentangle their energies carefully and slowly, like an expert trying to diffuse a bomb. What was she afraid was going to happen?

"_There's something to all of this."_ Tara thought, training her gaze in Willow's direction. The bright moonlight slipped through the slats of the blinds and crossed the redhead's face, illuminating her expression of concentration, making the action seem that much more important. _"There's something I'm not getting. The energy, the way she starts to say one things and ends with another, the way she looks at me…the way I react to her…there's something to _all_ of this. This is way more than what Eurynomus told me. I _know_ her. I'm sure of it. She knows me, I know her…I just need to figure this…" _Suddenly, Tara was sure she understood.

"Tell me about her." She said, startling both of them by speaking even though it had barely been above a whisper. She smiled as she felt Willow stop trying to disentangle herself and without supervision, the redhead's energy washed over her, pulling Tara's own away but instead of alarming her, she felt comforted. Safe.

"Wh-what? Who?" Willow asked, her tone already defensive.

"Your soulmate." She dared, unable to raise her voice.

The redhead sat back heavily, wide eyed for a moment. Tara admired the way a horizontal beam of moonlight landed directly on the other woman's face, making her eyes seem to grow emerald. Willow opened and closed her mouth, searching for words and it drew the blonde's eyes downward. She wondered how many times she had kissed those lips and chastised her brain for being too weak to recall such an event.

"I…she…um…" the redhead floundered

Tara leaned forward slightly, realizing that she was going to have to finish. She felt hyper aware of everything; the way the moonlight filtered in, the way the shadows around the room angled, her heart thundering franticly in her ears and Willow's wide eyed expression. She supposed that she should have felt worried. She knew she was not wrong, she had seen the only explanation. Tara felt that the implications should have intimidated her more, but the odd mixture of the new and the familiar only spurred her on. She smiled serenely and spoke:

"It's me, isn't it?"

**AN2: 1. **why I start a lot of scenes/subchapters with people waking up. I dunno. I guess you could get all subtexty and do the armchair psychology thing…but honestly? I like the idea of people waking up.

**2. **I contend that Buddha actually existed in this new dimension. Mostly because it's my story and it's fiction, so you have to suspend your disbelief. If you _really_ need an explanation though, Miss Manners Sunnydale's (or Carry Grant/Eurynomus/Evil Canadian Sunnydale, whichever you prefer) version of Siddhartha obtained Nirvana through the accumulation of material wealth and meditation on the Self as the center of the universe rather than abject poverty and viewing the Self as an impermanent fixture in an impermanent universe. End result: same awesomely peaceful expression.

**3. **Yeah, I really started writing this with the only idea that Tara was gonna be evil-ish. It's taken me until the middle of this chapter to actually figure out where I'm going with this, so barring a severe 180 in another direction, the story has a definite ending and we're coming up on the halfway point, depending on if my brain decides to do side quests.

**4. **Nope, I haven't forgotten about the necklace or Eurynomus, they'll both turn up soon

**5.** I'm still not telling how evil Tara may or may not be or how evil she may or may not become. Also, I'm sorry, but I really can't tell you whether or not the story has a happy ending!

**6. **Yes, I know that "Wiccan" is the preferable term for someone that practices Wicca…_but_ "Wicca" is the cannon term for the Buffy TV series, books and comic books. In its defense, "Wicca" denoting the practitioner of, is actually closer to the root word for the religion, which is wiċċe / wiċċen, and the plural is wiċċan, which is where we adopted it into English.


	12. Heaven in Hell

"_I…she…um…" the redhead floundered_

_Tara leaned forward slightly, realizing that she was going to have to finish. She felt hyper aware of everything; the way the moonlight filtered in, the way the shadows around the room angled, her heart thundering franticly in her ears and Willow's wide eyed expression. She supposed that she should have felt worried. She knew she was not wrong, she had seen the only explanation. Tara felt that the implications should have intimidated her more, but the odd mixture of the new and the familiar only spurred her on. She smiled serenely and spoke:_

"_It's me, isn't it?"_

*

Willow opened and closed her mouth a few times, sputtering silently for words that would not come. _"What should I do?!" _ She panicked to herself, twisting her hands together. _"She knows! What if I've ruined everything? What if this wasn't supposed to happen? What if I can't help her now?! How did she…" _ She was cut off from her internal crisis by Tara gently taking her hands.

"Willow," she started softly, drawing the redhead's gaze. "Why didn't you tell me?" she did not sound angry, only confused. "It…It makes sense, you know? How you're so vague about where you came from and what you're doing here, how you start and stop sentences, how you look at me and how I react to you unconsciously…" she blushed in spite of herself. "I-I think I know what happened, so if you don't…don't want to…or _can't_ tell me, how about I tell you and you can just nod or shake your head, okay?"

Willow nodded, unable to find her voice.

"I've never…no one's ever made me feel like you do. I don't even really _know_ you and yet…I feel as if I should, as if I do." She looked towards the window where the sharp moonlight was still spilling through the closed blinds but did not let go of the younger witch's hands. "Everything about you is…_comfortable_ and familiar and…my wh-whole life I've always felt…_different_. I've always _been _different and it never made sense until I first saw you." She bit her tongue to keep herself from telling the other Wicca that she had effectively been spying on her with Eurynomus. She dragged her gaze back to the other woman. "So are you going to tell me that I'm _not_ her?"

Willow swallowed hard and shook her head slowly, her eyes wide and watery.

Tara nodded firmly and continued. "A few nights ago…I felt something…strange. It was like a…" she let go of Willow's hands and waved her own in the air in a circular motion to help her find the word. "A dimension shift, an opening I guess…that was you, wasn't it?"

Another nod confirmed her question.

"I'm not from _here_, am I?"

"No." the redhead whispered hoarsely.

Tara's face twisted into concentration for a moment before she spoke again. "The only thing I can come up with is that there may have been a spell…that went wrong, and I ended up here?"

Willow clasped her hands together tightly and looked down. _"What do I say?" _she mused. _"Maybe she already knows too much. I won't put her in danger again…I can't…" _she nodded.

"How…" the blonde cleared her throat uncomfortably. "How long have I been gone?"

"One year, two months, and twelve days." Willow responded automatically. "I couldn't…I would have come sooner, but I…" she thought it best to leave her time in England out of the conversation. That would have to be for another time. "It wasn't possible. I wanted to find you after it happened but…" she sniffed back tears that had sprung unbidden, not having the confidence to raise her gaze.

The revelation sunk in quickly and Tara found herself at a loss for words. _"A year?"_ She wondered, attempting to blink away her shock. She regarded Willow with renewed interest; she understood the redhead's seemingly nervous behavior better now. The younger witch must have kept silent, as she knew that Tara would have no memories of their life together or of the dimension she had once called home.

Next to her, Willow still looked distraught, her arms firmly wrapped around herself and her downcast eyes spilling rivulets of tears onto her cheeks. Unable to resist any longer and now not seeing the need to, Tara gently pulled the smaller woman into a comforting embrace. The redhead's tears, which had been silent until then, burst forth with a strangled sob and Willow buried her face into the blonde's shoulder, clutching Tara's waist tightly.

"I'm sorry." The redhead whimpered through her weepy hiccupping, her voice muffled by Tara's shoulder. "I…I'm just so sorry, Tara."

She had no idea what Willow was apologizing for, but it seemed important, so she forgave her anyway. Tara's vision became distorted as her own tears fell. The redhead crying in her arms obviously cared for her more than she could fathom at the moment. In the back of her mind, she wondered if Eurynomus had known about their connection the whole time, but the thought was quickly filed away for later as Willow sat up, her face scant inches from Tara's.

"You don't know how lost I've been without you." The redhead breathed, her eyes still releasing a few tears. She wanted to touch the blonde's face, run her fingers through her hair, anything but she kept perfectly still. Tara clearly still had no memories of anything except her life here and while the blonde was receptive to her, Willow knew that she was going to have to take everything slowly as this was all relatively new to Tara.

The blonde took the redhead's hands again, marveling at how familiar the effect of the simple movement felt even though the action itself still felt entirely new. She realized that the short time she had been spending with the redhead was the only time she had ever felt anything more than apathetic to her surroundings. She felt _complete_. The notion made her apprehensive. Logically, she knew that she must have felt this way in Willow's presence countless times before. The emotional side of her brain reminded her, however, that though she was different from anyone in this dimension, this was the only home she could remember and experience whispered hotly to her that happiness was a façade, safety was a lie, and love was an illusion.

The doubt tried to force its way through Tara's veins, even as she lifted her hand to brush away Willow's tears. "I…I'm sorry I can't remember…" she replied, embracing the impulsion to ignore the apprehension running rampant in her head.

The redhead shook her head gently and brought Tara's hand up to her face, resting her lips lightly on the blonde's knuckles briefly, but not actually kissing them. This was almost too much; everything was working out too well. Willow was honestly beginning to believe her earlier musing that Tara may have not actually been in any real danger and this was nothing more than an elaborate ruse to reunite them. Perhaps, this was her second chance.

"That doesn't matter." She replied honestly, squeezing the blonde's hands in reassurance. "I've remembered enough for both of us." She smiled as Tara let out a watery chuckle.

They watched each other for a few moments, each searching the others eyes intently. This time, it was Tara that turned away first, thankful that the darkness concealed the slight blush that she felt warm her cheeks. "So what happens now?" she asked, training her interest at their entwined fingers and looking up only when she heard the redhead sigh sadly.

"Tara…" she started seriously, not meeting the blonde's gaze. "I only came here for you…you've figured that out." She smiled slightly. "You've always been really good at figuring stuff out. I should have known you'd have figured this out pretty fast too." She frowned. "But…No matter what you are to _me_, no matter what you _may_ feel…you…_we_ really don't know each other the same way we did. We're both different…we've both changed. I can't just show up and ask you to have things the way they were when you don't even _know_ what they were like."

Tara tucked her index finger gently under the redhead's chin, forcing her gaze upwards to study her eyes. She had not thought Willow was lying, but she had wanted to see it in her eyes. Nevertheless, she asked the question. "You would risk something as unstable and volatile as interdimensional travel to find me, knowing that I wouldn't remember you and not expect anything from me when I find out?"

The younger witch seemed to straighten a little as she nodded. "I love you. And even though you…you don't…you know…" she did not actually think she could bring herself to say aloud that Tara did not love her, though the circumstances were extreme. "Even if you don't and never will, you did once and that's reason enough for me. I owe you a lot. More than you would ever understand, even if you remembered everything. I don't expect you to give me anything other than what you want to. I just…I can't be…" she sighed and glanced around the room at the deep shadows, searching for the right words, but there were none. "I just can't be without you." She finished quietly, turning her face away.

Tara was not quite sure how to reply. Willow's simple admission of love had caught her off guard. In her memory, she had only ever heard her mother utter those words and mean them. The statement had caused her face to blush and a miniature wave of heat to flush through her. She shook her head, trying to clear her digestive track of butterflies. She was not sure what to say to convince Willow that her nervousness was unfounded?

_"Maybe this is too fast."_ Willow thought, her gaze fixed onto the carpet. _"She should have had time to digest all of this first…Good going, Rosenburg." _She glanced over at the blonde who appeared to be contemplating something very intently. _"Yeah, probably how to best get me out of here without hurting my feelings." _She lamented self-deprecatingly. _"What was I thinking? She basically doesn't know me and I'm sitting here telling her that I can't be without her? Way to reassure, Will." _ Her internal tirade halted abruptly as she registered the pad of Tara's thumb moving gently across the back of her hand. Glancing over at the blonde, the action appeared to be unconscious as she still seemed lost to her own contemplations. Willow held her breath as the ministrations on her hand ceased and Tara looked up, determination on her face.

"I'm sorry I can't remember..." the older witch started, softly pressing her index finger to the redhead's lips when she opened her mouth to protest. "I…I can't imagine what this must be like for you, Willow. To me, I've only just met you, and yet…" She trailed off to brush some of Willow's hair away from her face, unable to contain a small smile as the redhead leaned into her unconsciously.

"I want to remember." She continued, watching Willow's pupils dilate as she slid her hand from the redhead's ear to the back of her neck. "I wish I could re-remember ever feeling like _this_ before."

The younger Wicca was paying attention, she really was, but she had become suddenly and acutely aware of how close they were and the blonde's fingers just barely moving through her hair. In spite of herself, Willow felt her eyes water with fresh tears. She had only ever dared to hope that she would see Tara again let alone be on the verge of kissing her. Still, she loved the other woman with more depth than even she could grasp at times so she stayed motionless, fighting the urge to lean forward that was so strong, she could feel it pressing on the back of her shoulders.

"Hey," Tara whispered, cupping Willow's face with both hands and using her thumbs to brush away the tears that had started falling. "It's gonna be okay."

Her breath was warm and it tickled the redhead's face, causing her to sigh and slid her eyes closed. With her eyes closed, she could not see Tara move forward and therefore did not have time to react when she felt soft lips press into her own. A sigh from the blonde spurred Willow into action and she threw her arms around Tara's neck, returning the kiss eagerly but gently, aware that to the blonde, this was the first time she had kissed her.

Tara had never felt so complete kissing someone in her whole life. Even without remembering Willow completely, she just _knew_ that her place was with the redhead. The blonde could not recall having ever felt so happy or _free_ before, but there, in the semi darkness of her living room with the moonlight spilling in and Willow's tongue moving against hers languidly, she was quite certain she could get used to the feeling. Even the doubt that had crept into her brain dissipated. There was no sound in the room for several minutes except for the occasional sigh and gentle murmurs of nothing in particular.

Willow felt all the anger, nervousness, isolation and sorrow of the last year flee her body and she felt like herself again. She felt like she was _home_. If the redhead never found a way home, she would be okay with that, as long as she was with Tara. What would be the point of going back now? Unbidden, the thought that Buffy had not heard from her in nearly two days startled her into opening her eyes and disentangled her fingers from the blonde's soft hair.

"What's…wrong?" Tara asked breathlessly between kisses.

"I…have to…let…Buffy know…I'm…okay."

Tara pulled back reluctantly, giving the redhead's swollen lips a slight pinch between her teeth as she sat up. Willow's eyes were dark and dilated, her hair disheveled and her face red. Tara wanted nothing more than to ignore the redhead's statement and pick up where they had left off, but something told her that she did not want the petite blonde angry with her.

Smiling, she nodded and stood up, pulling the redhead off the couch after her and they walked to the blonde's car hand in hand.


	13. The AntiSlayer

**AN: **thanks to rainee-chan for the loverly review =) also, there's a _ton_ of talking and not much else in this chapter. Sorry, some things _have_ to be explained before I keep going. Also, I think this may answer some questions people've asked me and I've been ignoring lol

*

The drive back to the Amphora was less awkward than Tara had originally guessed it would be. They picked up an earlier conversation they were having about whether or not a horse would gnaw a persons arm off just to spite them (Willow was quite convinced that if horses were not malicious, they would not have such large teeth). Both of women were careful to avoid any topics of conversation that could lead them into talking about what Tara had missed by being in another dimension or what they were supposed to do now. Although, with the blonde steering with one hand while the other held onto one of Willow's, it was clear that something had changed.

Tara wondered if this was how her clients felt. With their energies wrapped together, tangling into swirls of light in the blonde's peripheral vision, she felt giddy, almost invincible. She laughed as Willow tried to sway her by saying that some people's fingers looked an awfully lot like carrots and could easily be bitten off by a horse. Shaking her head, she retorted, listing reasons why most horses did not care for fingers and she did not associate with the ones that did, but her mind was only half way into the conversation.

Something was wrong. Willow was to be the Queen of Hell and Eurynomus must have been planning to use her to get to Willow. _"There has to be more than that." _ Tara thought, smiling genially at something the redhead said. _"If that's all there was, he would have told me…No, there's something else going on, definitely. Why is Willow rejecting her darkness? Why can't she know that The First chose her? Why does it have to be me?"_ there were too many questions but unfortunately, only one person could give her the answers.

She pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, determined to find Eurynomus once Willow was inside. Tara leaned over with the intention of kissing the other woman lightly, but found she was quickly becoming addicted to the sensation and could not bring herself to stop for several minutes, not that the redhead seemed to be protesting. When they pulled back from each other, Tara wondered briefly if she could get away with inviting herself up, but thought the better of it and simply smiled as Willow got out of the car and walked slowly into the brightly lit lobby, looking behind her to give the blonde one last grin before slipping out of sight.

Tara allowed the smile on her face to linger for a moment, two fingers pressed gently against her lips before she shook herself of her daze and started the car, hoping that the pale demon would be easy to find.

*

Eurynomus tried to make it a habit to mingle with his inferiors. While most demon lords subdued their subjects through physical force, or fear, the Prince of Vultures preferred to be more subtle. It was not that he did not enjoy a good torture now and then; he just found that being feared, admired and worshiped was much easier to manage than being feared, loathed and cursed.

So he often took up company with the denizens of his own personal hell, Asmodeus ever trailing behind him. A small crowd of his followers was currently entertaining him, Maxwell sitting on one side of him and Asmodeus looming behind him. The place was swanky, for a magic den. He felt as if he were at a country club, everyone was dressed nicely and a yellow skinned Girral demon was crooning along with his piano playing on the other side of the room. He took special care to make his presence known at various magic dens around his dimension. The dealers were the lifeblood of darkness. Without them to push people over the edge, to leave them craving the blackness, to seek it out like lunatics, Eurynomus would probably starve.

High-level demons such as the alabaster prince, fed almost solely on darkness and the way it spread from person to person, corrupting everything in its path. His Master had done him a great service in tailoring his hell dimension. Other demons had to resort to the hard work of fighting for survival, having to constantly perpetuate evil in a place that had a finite capacity for it. Eurynomus had a constant food supply here, even more so than in other hell dimensions he had been to. While it was true that there was no _good_ in his dimension, not everyone was actually _evil_. The aspirations of power and wealth people had encouraged them to get what they wanted by any means necessary and feeling all the lives touched by the blackness that flowed through his veins had sustained him since nearly the Beginning.

He smiled nobly at the eager faces around him, all thrilled to be in his presence and hoping for a free high-level fix. The covetous stares of his greedy children warmed his heart and he placed his fingertips on the forehead of the nearest person, a lovely young woman with a sweet face and hair so blonde, it was almost white. Her pale blue eyes were unfocused and glassy; she appeared to already be on the verge of a magical overdose. Stroking her face slightly, he let loose a wave of darkness that caused her to throw her head back, her hair and eyes becoming black. She crumpled to the floor and Eurynomus peered down to see if he had killed her. He was surprised when he saw her pulse beating wildly beneath the thin skin on her neck; she was stronger than she looked, but probably would not last much longer. The wide grin on her face told him that she thought it would not be such a terrible way for her to go. It was a pity; fear was delicious.

That would be enough benevolence for now, just a taste, to show them what to strive for. He enjoyed holding court with his precious junkies. They understood the craving for darkness better than even some demons. They, more than anyone, belonged to him. Currently, they were celebrating. Jirel, a young half demon, had proven himself worthy enough for Eurynomus to permit him to leave his dimension and garner followers elsewhere.

Smiling, he allowed himself to relax and regale his fascinated audience with tales of the old days, when _all_ the earths belonged to Evil. He felt excitement race through his veins as he spoke of how life used to be, how things would be again.

*

Tara cut the engine of her car off, plunging the alley she had parked in back into the bluish shades of moonlight. She blinked the spots out of her eyes and started down the alley, he had to be here. After dropping Willow off, she had attempted a quick locater spell, but Eurynomus was a powerful demon and the spell had only returned that he was with a magic dealer. At first, she had been frustrated, there had to have been at least one hundred dealers and thirty magic dens just on that side of the city.

Then it had occurred to her the Eurynomus would not show his face just anywhere. The tall demon loved to make a great spectacle of how generous he was to his followers so he would likely be at a high traffic den with a high profile dealer and since he was obviously not with her that had narrowed her choices down to five. An hour later, she was on the last person of her mental list. He had to be at Jirel's. She should have checked there first; the half demon was almost as zealous as Maxwell.

She made her way to the end of the alley where a metal door covered in green paint that had long ago begun to peel sat illuminated by a bare bulb. She had been to Jirel's before, and knew that the unimpressive door hid a large club like den that had a suit and tie policy. Since Jirel was half demon, he could tap into some aspects of darkness that most dealers without demonic heritage could not hope to touch which afforded him the ability to charge even more than Tara normally did. Full blooded demons rarely resorted to dealing jobs, but they often set up dens and fixed their half-breed relatives up with dealing positions which had been the case with Jirel whose demon father had help him gain his reputation.

She knocked several times on the door and stood back, tapping her foot impatiently. The little portal in the center of the door slid open to reveal a pair of red eyes that scowled when they settled on her.

"Whaddya want, Maclay?" a gruff voice grunted from the other side of the door. "You here to steal more clients?"

Tara rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. No one could hold a grudge quite like a jilted demon. "I've told you guys a million times, I didn't _steal_ her." She huffed, perturbed. "_She_ came to _me_, not the other way around and I never deny a lady's money."

A snarl answered her, causing her lips to curve into a smile. She _may_ have stolen the client. She held up her hands and shook her head, trying to look serious. "Look, I'm just here to talk to Lord Eurynomus, I know he's here." She said, watching the red eyes study her.

There was a low grumble and the portal slammed shut. For a moment, Tara thought she was going to have to get angry, but the sound of a bolt sliding back let her know that the door had been unlocked. The door swung open to reveal a tall demon with skin the color of scorched earth, his long wild mane of dark brown hair and sharp teeth giving him a leonine appearance. Tara thought he looked ridiculous in his grey suit but did not say so as she slipped past him. It had never ceased to amaze her that even other demons were caught up in Eurynomus' thrall.

"I heard the news about your son." She said instead, watching him relock the door and then following his heavy frame up a stone staircase, the sound of piano music growing louder with each step. "You must be proud."

The demon in front of her snorted and came to a halt at the stop of the steps where the narrow staircase opened into a fancy lounge that looked like it belonged in a five star hotel in Las Vegas. "Yeah, Jirel is goin good side tomorrow for two months." He jabbed his finger at a table in the back where a small crowd was gathered. "Guess you ain't as good as they say, eh, Blondie?" he chuckled.

She scowled at him. She hated demons. "I don't know what you're insinuating, Recka. I got where I am through hard work, I didn't need my daddy to set me up."

Recka laughed heartily, showing the small tusks in his lower jaw. "Yeah, and look where that got cha!" he retorted. "If you're so damn good, why haven't _you_ ever been sent good side?"

"I'm about to go find out." She replied shortly, walking away from him. Being sent 'good side' was the local term for missions Eurynomus would send his dealers and followers on to gain more dependents and thusly, more power. Tara had never really cared for all the pomp and circumstance of corrupting people in other dimensions. She never sought out clients, they came to her, and so, she had never been terribly interested in why she was one of the top six dealers in the state and had never been sent good side.

She realized now that it was because she was _from_ one of the good side dimensions and for whatever reason, Eurynomus could not risk sending her anywhere. This was _his_ dimension; she had no question in her mind that he was fully aware that she did not belong there or to him. She picked her way through the crowd, making her way to where Jirel's father had pointed and not caring that she appeared grossly underdressed.

She stood on the outskirts of the circle of junkies in designer clothes who had thoroughly convinced themselves that they were better than the poorer magic addicts who slept in alleys to save enough money to get their next fix. Eurynomus was talking animatedly, making broad gesticulations with his hands. Behind him, in the shadows, the only sign of Asmodeus' large figure were two bright yellow eyes. Maxwell sat on the pale demon's left and next to him, was Jirel who looked like a lighter, tusk-less version of his father.

"Ah, Tara!" Eurynomus announced when he finally spotted her, standing up and waving his hand to part the crowd.

All eyes in the group turned to her, she recognized the faces of some of the other clients she may have _borrowed_ and smirked when they turned away. She inclined her head towards the alabaster prince as was expected of her and did not contain her surprise when he bowed his own head slightly.

"Have you come to join the festivities?" he asked, already knowing the answer from the look on her face.

"I need to talk to you." Tara replied evenly, annoyed that Eurynomus' smile did not falter.

"Of _course_ my dear!" he replied, waving off Asmodeus who had made a movement to follow him. He spread his arms wide for the group, smiling brightly. "If you'll excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I have some _business_ that needs attending."

She ignored the curious stare Maxwell was giving her and followed the thin demon through one of the doors to the private rooms that lined one side of the lounge. Once inside, Eurynomus folded gracefully onto one end of a plus red couch, the only piece of furniture in the room. He clasped his hands together in his lap and waited for Tara to speak.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" she started, clenching her fists slightly.

The pale demon smiled slightly under raised eyebrows. "I'm not sure what you mean, my dear."

"_Bullshit_." Tara spat out, beginning to pace. "There's a lot you're not telling me about this _job_. Let's start with how I'm not even _from_ this dimension." She ran a hand through her hair. "And don't even get me started on Willow! What the hell are you playing at?"

Eurynomus smiled comfortingly and made a beckoning motion with his fingers, causing the blonde to spin around and get pushed backwards onto the couch into a sitting position. "You really must calm down, Tara." He started, feeling her building anger radiate towards him.

She would have flipped him off if she could have moved her arms, but he had immobilized her from the neck down so she scowled instead. "I want to know what's going on." She said through gritted teeth.

The black eyed demon pat Tara on the shoulder gently, not fazed or insulted by her outburst though had it been anyone else, he would have been eating their entrails by now. "You're really very tense, my dear." He put his fingertips lightly on her temple, letting out a wave of energy in much the same way he had done to the woman at his table earlier. "Here, let's calm you down first, shall we?"

The blonde shuddered, an impressive feat as he still had not relinquished control of her limbs. Her eyes rolled back briefly but did not turn black. He was impressed; it took a very strong constitution to be able to not get lost in the darkness he sent out. He liked the consort. She was spunky.

"Come now, Tara." He started again, releasing his hold on her. Though her will was strong and she had not _completely _succumbed, she was not immune and should therefore be more agreeable. "Max doesn't know and would you have believed _me_ if I told you? Frankly, I'm surprised you hadn't figured it out sooner. You're a smart girl, you've always known that you were different than everyone else, haven't you?"

Tara nodded dreamily, dimly aware that a conversation was occurring.

"If anything, you should be _thanking_ me. I _allowed_ you here. You could have ended up some place more…_traditional_, you know."

Tara nodded again. Her face felt hot, she wanted to leave.

"Well, I just thought I might remind you of that the next time you want to use such crass language in my presence again. Let's start over, shall we?"

"Why does Willow reject the darkness she has?" Tara started, struggling to focus on the conversation. "Why do _I_ have to be the one to nurture it?"

Eurynomus smiled broadly and leaned back. "Oh, she hasn't told you? It's too intriguing. _You _are the reason why the blackness is there and you are the _only_ way it can manifest again."

"I…_what_?" she asked incredulously, unsure that she heard him properly. There was too much power running through her, it was making it hard to concentrate. It wanted her to get up, to feed off more darkness, to _hurt_ something… but she just let out a huff of air and pinched the bridge of her nose.

The demon chuckled merrily. "Now, now, I'm not one to spoil the surprise. I'll let her tell you the details but I'm sure you'll just _die_." He chuckled merrily at his own joke. "For now, you'll just have to be satisfied with partial answers and my side of the story. The Great Master made it clear that Willow _will not_ take the throne without your encouragement, Tara." He brushed some of the hair away from her face, his hands felt cold and his touch made her shiver unpleasantly. "You two are very dear to my Master, you know. Do you know how long it's been since Hell had a queen?"

Tara shook her head, the movement causing her vision to blur into blotches of bright colors. This was important, she had to focus, but her skin tingled like it was covered with electricity and she was feeling antsy.

"Well, let me put it this way," Eurynomus said conspiratorially, leaning closer to her and dropping his voice. "The first queen was before my time. The Master wanted her to be his emissary." He leaned back but did not distance himself from her, watching her for a moment. He was quite dazzled with the consort, actually. Her willpower alone was enough to merit his admiration and frankly, he was looking forward to what would happen once Tara was able to live up to her potential; not to mention how thrilled he was at the prospect of Willow coming back to the fold. He cleared his throat and rested his hands on his knees. He may as well lay his cards on the table; he would _not_ want to be on her bad side after she became more powerful than he was.

"I suppose I'll throw you a bone, as it were." He began again, pretending he was doing her a favor. "In the Beginning, there was only one Hell. It existed in all dimensions, on all earths, and it was free to grow and consume." He sighed wistfully; the heyday had been before his time as well. "You may not truly understand the concept, but Good loves nothing more than to meddle in the affairs of Evil. I suppose they took pity on you mortal types and began to pinch off dimensions from each other and introducing _Goodness_ in the process. Naturally, we could not stand for such an affront.

Up until then, only the Master had the ability to travel between dimensions of his own accord. Demons are not interdimensional by nature; we have to borrow the ability from the Master, but not the Queen. While the Higher Powers were busy meddling with your souls and trying to destroy our livelihoods, the Lower Powers facilitated the ascension of the Queen."

"You expect me to believe that Willow's a demon?" Tara replied sharply. Her veins felt bloated with magic and she wanted to release it but she gritted her teeth and clenched her fists instead.

Eurynomus tsked his tongue and patted her gently on the knee as if she were a child and smiled broadly at her; she wanted to rip his throat out… he could see it on her face. She either had the good sense not to try or was a lot higher than he had guessed and just could not be bothered with the task.

"Of course not!" he scoffed. "I only _just _complimented your intelligence a moment ago, don't be absurd." He chuckled. "A demon? No, my dear. Demons are all spawned from The First. We are like His children; we all have some of His traits and are ever dependent on his continuing support. The first Queen was one of _you_. A human. It's remarkable really, how Darkness feeds so heartily off your kind and the arms of Evil are ever open, regardless of species."

"How liberal of you."

"Yes, well, it has its advantages of course. Anyone can give their soul to Darkness, it's a fairly simple process, actually. But to give one's soul directly to The First is another matter entirely. Therefore, the Queen had to be of special stock, and there had only ever been one until now. When the forces of Goodness first began closing off dimensions, it had weakened the Master severely; their savagery was strangling all that was cold and evil.

In order to preserve Himself and thusly, the rest of us as well, the Master created something called the Energumen Eye. I'm sure you've heard the folklore and fairytales surrounding it, but it's really nothing more than a pretty rock that has an imprint of the Master's essence on it. Alone, it could grant unimaginable power, but one must have a human soul to use it properly. Even then, it can only be a certain manner of human; otherwise the end result is the same: death."

"What do you mean, only a '_certain manner_' of human?" Tara asked, gnawing on her lower lip. The high was beginning to subside and she could think more clearly, she was lucky that he had not given her more. It was still a great effort not to just let herself get lost in the feeling.

"You can't just make an all powerful being without balance and consequence." He replied matter-of-factly and examining his transparent fingernails. "That's the _real_ problem with the war between Good and Evil, you know. Neither of us will ever win, everything has to have some semblance of balance…" he grinned wickedly. "But that's not to say that we shouldn't tip the scale every once in a while.

"The Energumen Eye is an ancient relic. Older than myself. The Master, while All Powerful, lost much of His former Glory after Goodness had been introduced to an innumerable multitude of dimensions. The Queen was to be an extension of Himself, a sort of ill will ambassador. She would have much of his power; more than any demon created; only it would be _her_ power to wield rather than being technically borrowed from the Master."

"And why would The First even _need_ a Queen if he's 'all powerful?'"

Eurynomus shook his head and sighed. "I thought it would be obvious. You haven't the faintest idea how difficult it is for the Master to maintain his presence in nearly every dimension in existence. I suppose it's much the same for the Higher Powers. There's a reason why even those that are actively fighting the war between Good and Evil have never seen the originators of the feud. The Master hasn't the energy to sustain His presence everywhere _and_ lead mass battles. Even the Higher Beings can't accomplish that. Why do you think they made Slayers? The First Slayer was nothing more than an answer to our Queen, they just fudged the rules a tad and bleached small amounts of darkness with their putrescence and mutilated it into something horrifically grey."

Tara had heard of Slayers before. In this dimension, the Slayer was a mythical Amazonian beast of a woman that parents would use to scare their children into going to bed on time or doing their chores but as far as she knew, there had never been a _real_ Slayer here. People she had known that had gone good side often came back with tales of Slayers. The idea had always intrigued her and now she wondered if she was from a dimension that _had_ a Slayer. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, willing the half-drunk feeling to leave her, but it did not. "If all the Queen of Hell is, is an Anti-slayer, why isn't she self perpetuating like the Slayer line? Why _Willow_? This can't all be a coincidence." she was getting angry, she had not asked for any of this.

The demonic prince smiled and ticked his finger back and forth. "I don't want to spoil _all_ the surprises, but Willow is…special. The Queen is able to be killed, if done so before the Energumen Eye fuses permanently to the soul, which is what happened to the first Queen who met her end at the hands of the First Slayer. It's all very complicated, but most humans have a strong enough constitution to handle the energy the Eye gives out in small doses, but it's rare that someone would have the spiritual fortitude to control its powers for more than a few hours.

"Willow not only has the ability, but the _potential_. Until Willow, the first Queen, Lilith, had been the only one with the potential. Personally, I always thought your little paramour was lost to the light, until she gave it up in such a…_delightful_ fashion." His grin becoming rictus-like as it widened with the memory.

"Fortunately, my dear, Evil takes great care of our Champions. We don't make disposable saviors like _they_ do with the Slayer. We spend a little more time on our weapons, you see. The Queen will _always_ be more powerful than the Slayer. The Slayer is but a kitten fighting a lioness. Even without having been Queen, Willow darkness was enough to defeat one of the most powerful Slayers in history."

"_Willow_ killed a Slayer?" Tara asked in disbelief.

Eurynomus frowned. "Unfortunately not. She was well on her way, but the circumstances were…wrong but what _led_ to them was magnificent. That isn't important now, what _is_ important is Willow. If you don't nurture her darkness and help her ascend to her role as the Queen of Hell, she'll die."

"Wh-what?"

"Willow has been deceived by the Light. Their forces have convinced her that she is _Good_, but you and I have both seen the darkness within her and we can see better than that. Truthfully, the Light is _afraid_ of what will happen once we have a Queen again. The First Slayer was barely able to defeat Lilith and Willow is much stronger than the former Queen. They were afraid enough to send their silly little _Champion_ with Willow to stop her ascension."

Tara could not help the laugh that slipped past her lips. "_Buffy_ is _the_ Slayer?" it seemed preposterous; she was so tiny. "Why would Willow willingly hang around with someone whose going to try and kill her?"

The pale demon smiled and pretended to think about the question. It was time to turn on his infamous charm. "Brainwashing of course. Don't you think we'd do the same thing to _their_ Champion if presented with the opportunity? Willow is a prisoner, Tara. If you don't free her, she will most certainly meet her end. We will have our Queen again, you will have power and your redhead, I don't see any of this as a bad situation. Don't you _want_ to save her?" He knew she did, they were soulmates. It was a horribly disgusting concept, but it provided the grounds for easy manipulation. If one of them was in trouble, the other would stop at nothing to help them.

"What do I do?"

Eurynomus put on his serious expression, but inside, he was grinning. Easy manipulation. Love turned the most cunning people into ridiculous fools. "Like any good warden, Buffy has the key to Willow's shackles."

"The Energumen Eye?"

"Precisely, my dear. You used to know the Slayer so it shouldn't be terribly difficult for you to gain her confidence and you'll see exactly whose been telling the truth. I won't make the decision for you, Tara, but I _know_ that once you see what Buffy has planned, you'll make the right choice. For now, feed Willow the Darkness when you get the chance, but do _not_ let the Slayer catch you."

Tara nodded, too shocked to find the proper words. Her mind was reeling from everything that had happened in such a short time and the magic still coursing through her body; she needed to sleep it off. Eurynomus helped her to her feet, as she was still too shaky to stand on her own. Her legs felt like jelly and the remainder of the magic pulsating through her whispered that it would be easier to float, but she resisted, she would not let herself be put under Eurynomus' thrall. Dazed, she nodded again as the sinewy demon asked her if she understood what she needed to do and watched him slip back into the crowd, making his way towards the table he had left.


	14. Dreams or Memories?

**AN: **oh I wish I could answer some of your questions, I really do. But you just gotta wait =P and sorry if stuff gets/has been a tad confusing; sometimes my brain goes faster than my fingers.

*

_Tara was sitting in a chair next to her window, having long since ran out of enough tears to spill onto her cheeks. Now tears just stood in her eyes, which felt raw, like she had been swimming in an overly chlorinated pool all day. She was pulled into herself with her knees up to her chest, just staring out at the night, not really seeing anything. She had been going through the vast rolodex of horrible experiences she had been through in her life and had determined that she had _never_ felt so broken before in any memory she had. _

_The white Christmas lights strung up around her room went out suddenly, without a flicker. Tara had merely sniffed, barely aware that the room had been plunged into darkness. It seemed appropriate. Normally, she never felt bad for herself. She had been through a lot in her life, more than most, and she figured no one would have really blamed her if she had thrown a pity party occasionally; but she was just not that type of person. _

_This was different. All those other times, she had never been in love. She had had a girlfriend once and went on a few awkward dates when she had first started college, but she had come to terms with the prospect of being an old cat lady which had not been a _totally_ upsetting prospect. Then she had met her; Willow. Despite the sharp emotional pain in her chest, a smile touched her lips momentarily at remembering the first time she saw the redhead as she stared blankly out of the window at the darkened quad. Outside her room, she heard students running up and down the halls, whooping for joy at the outage. A muffled yell of "blackout party!" filtered through the cracks along with a round of cheers and then the halls fell silent. _

_The quiet was better, the laughter and joviality outside was making her feel bitter and even lonelier. Pulling her knees ever tighter to her chest, she sighed and sniffed again, her face involuntarily screwing up as if she were about to let loose another torrent of tears, but she had no more. Tara had been reminding herself constantly that their innocent flirting was just Willow trying to figure herself out. They had shared a few chaste kisses that although if anyone else had seen them, it still would have seemed platonic, had left them both red faced and stammering. _

_She unconsciously touched the corner of her mouth with her fingertips, remembering how the last time it had happened, she almost had to physically restrain herself from turning her head. It would have been so easy to just…but no, Willow would be nothing but her friend. Sighing, Tara wiped her sore eyes and tried to ignore the feeling that her heart was sitting firmly in her stomach. She was grateful to have the redhead in her life at any capacity, and she felt with every fiber of her being that she would never love someone like she had grown to love the inexperienced witch, but she would rather take the pain of seeing her every day with her ex than not see her at all. _

_All of that brought her back to what she had been doing: wallowing in heartbreak and self-pity. She had to get through the worst of it as soon as possible so she could be as supportive as Willow would need her to be. She had just about convinced herself that she could face the redhead tomorrow when there was a knock at the door. _

_She got up slowly, knowing that the only person who would come to her room at that hour, or at all, was Willow. Tara took a deep breath to calm her nerves, steel her heart, and try to bully away the stupid butterflies that insisted on nagging her in the redhead's presence, and opened the door. _

_Her heart leapt back into its proper place in her chest upon seeing the slender woman who was nervously bouncing on her toes and holding a large yellow candle before she realized what Willow must be there for. Tara's heart dropped into her shoes so quickly that she shuffled her feet for a second to see if she could feel herself squash the traitorous organ. Willow's smiled faltered for a moment and the blonde wondered if it was clear that she had been crying, she hoped not. _

_Tara could not make herself speak, her throat felt clenched and the tears she had thought she had finally run out of, started to well up again. _

_Willow peered around her room at the deep shadows behind the blonde. "No candles?"_

_Tara still said nothing, she hated the nervousness in Willow's voice, she must have come here to tell her that she was back with her ex. She wanted to shout at the redhead, tell her that she would have _never_ even entertained the thought of cheating let alone packing up and leaving her. She wanted to kiss her, a real kiss, just once, just so Willow could _feel_ what she felt. She bit down on her bottom lip instead._

_The redhead held up her candle slightly. "Well, I brought one." She continued. "It's extra flamey."_

_The blonde wanted to smile, she really did. The younger Wicca looked so adorable when she was nervous and she had started to blush. Tara stepped back slightly, cursing her feet. She knew what was coming next and she wanted to close the door, she wanted to start the day over, or the year over, but knew that she would never deny Willow anything. She took the candle when Willow handed to her and stared into the flame, trying to draw some strength from it. When she looked up, the door had been closed and the shorter woman had her resolve look firmly planted on her features. _

_"Tara, I have to tell you…"_

_She could not hear the next part. She had tortured herself with the images for what seemed like an eternity, she could tolerate that; but the words, the words she just could not bear to hear. "No." she started softly, finding her voice. "I-I understand. You have to be with the person you l-love." She smiled slightly to show her support. She was proud of herself for being able to speak around the large lump of emotion lodged in her throat. _

_Willow smiled at her, but there was something in the expression that made the butterflies come back. "I am." She said simply._

_Tara's eyes widened as her heart shot up into her throat as if it were being propelled by Grade A rocket fuel. Maybe she meant her ex, maybe she meant she was back with him, but her mouth let out a hopeful "You mean…?" the longing in her voice was unmistakable, if she were wrong, she would not be able to play it off, it was out there now, for real. _

_Willow grinned slightly. "I mean…" she trailed off and bounced on her heels a few times, her smile wavering. "Okay?"_

_"Oh yes." She heard herself whisper, her mouth suddenly going dry. She watched as relief flooded through the redhead, Tara forgot what she had been so worried about. _

"_I feel horrible about everything I put you through. A-and I'm gonna make it up to you." Willow said firmly. "Starting right now." _

_The older Wicca felt her mouth begin to curve ever upwards, they were standing close enough for her to see the way the shorter woman's gaze kept darting to her lips and back up to her eyes. "Right now?" she rephrased._

_Willow nodded and grinned._

_Almost the moment that Tara blew out the candle, Willow's lips were on hers and a fire that the blonde had not known existed raced through her veins as if her blood were made of gasoline. She felt the candle slip out of her hands and land with a thunk onto the floor, spilling melted wax onto their feet, but it did not matter. Nothing but Willow's hands on her shoulders pushing her gently backwards towards the bed and Willow's mouth on hers had any meaning anymore. Everything else was far away, lost to the shadows of the room. Their breathing had become ragged and erratic, the backs of Tara's knees hit the bed and they all but tumbled onto the mattress, frantically shedding articles of clothing._

The sharp ringing of Tara's cell phone snapped her suddenly out of sleep, causing her to bolt up in bed and hold her arm out against the sudden brightness of the room. _"A dream?" _she asked herself, her heart pounding. It had to have been a dream, but it felt _real_. She ran a shaky hand through her messy hair and reached for her phone on the nightstand, which was playing a polyphonic jingle incessantly. She frowned when she did not recognize the number; it could not have been a client, her number was unlisted. Aggravated, she wondered if one of her regulars had given out her number. She wanted to go back to sleep, back to the dream of her and Willow in a tangle of limbs and sheets.

"Tara Maclay speaking." She answered, still a little sleepy. "This had better be _really_ good."

"Oh!" The voice on the other end of the line started. "I-I, did I wake you?"

It was Willow. She smiled uncontrollably. "No!" she replied, now completely awake. "I-I mean, yes, but it's okay." She glanced at the clock on her nightstand, the red numbers declared it was three in the afternoon; she had missed work and slept most of the day away.

"Late night?"

The smile disappeared from her face and she nodded even though Willow could not see her. "It's okay," she repeated. "It's just a lot…a lot happened last night and I guess everything just knocked me out." It was not really a lie.

"Are…are you okay?" she asked, concern in her voice.

"I…I don't know, honestly. I mean, yes…and no…and…maybe I should just stick with I don't know." She laughed slightly and changed the subject. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Rosenburg?" Tara could not see Willow either but was sure the redhead had smiled, causing her own lips to curve upwards.

"It's…it's Buffy." Came the reply, her voice suddenly serious.

Tara sneered distastefully. The _Slayer_. The would be murderer. "What happened?" she asked, forcing her voice to sound attentive.

"I don't know…" Willow said worriedly. "Last night, after I came back, I went to see if she was here and there wasn't any answer so I figured she was asleep. This morning, I went to talk to her…and she wasn't answering so I went in and she's here…I think she's been here since last night, but she's not waking up."

"Maybe she had a late night too?"

"I thought so too but…oh Tara, she's not waking up! I've tried everything! Shaking, shouting…I almost got a bucket of water, but I couldn't find a bucket. Wh-what if there's something really _wrong_? What if she was outside yesterday afternoon? I mean, Buffy's a Sla…" She stopped herself. "Slapper. Buffy's a slapper so I didn't want to push my luck, but she should have woken up by _now_ and I didn't know what else to do."

"Hey, calm down, Willow." She said gently, already getting out of bed. "It's gonna be okay."

"B-but remember you said yesterday, when _I_ almost fell asleep? Oh Goddess, what if she was out there all day? What if she's going to _die_?"

Tara would have said 'let her' if the panic in Willow's voice had not bothered her so much. "I'll be there in twenty minutes." She replied. "She's still breathing now?"

There was silence for a second. "Yeah, barely."

"Okay, just stay there with her, if she starts coughing, turn her over on her side, don't let her choke on it. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay." She replied, a little calmer. "Is there anything else I should do until you get here?"

"We don't know for sure that's what happened, just keep an eye on her and I'll be there soon."

"Thanks, Tara…I knew you'd know what to do."

"Twenty minutes."

"I think I can manage not to melt down for that long. I lo…I'll see you when you get here."

Tara smiled. "Okay, see you in twenty."

Snapping the phone shut and tossing it onto the bed, she ruffled her bed head hair and made her way to the bathroom. Most of the dream she had becoming fuzzy the longer she stayed awake. If she was lucky, and took a little extra time in the shower, maybe Buffy would be beyond saving. Tara knew though, that since Willow had asked her, she would do whatever she could to help the Slayer. This might even be the best opportunity to get closer to her. After all, if she helped saved Buffy's life, it was an automatic rail pass to trust town and had not Eurynomus stressed the importance of gaining Buffy's trust? Did she not want to see for herself what the petite blonde was up to?

She would go, she would help, and she would figure out what the Slayer was planning to do with _her_ Willow.


	15. You Can't Handle The Truth

**AN:**__Heya, kids! Thanks so much for the kind notes. I hadn't meant to be AWOL for a whole month, but I really needed the time. Anyways, enough about me, back to the story!

*

Tara stared down into the Slayer's face contemplatively. The skin around the smaller blonde's eyes looked bruised and a network of small blue veins had started to pop up just beyond the dark edges of her closed eyelids. She had definitely been outside yesterday afternoon. Tara supposed that the only reason why Buffy was still breathing was that she was the Slayer. Usually by the time the bruises started to form, it was already too late. They would have to do something soon though, or the other woman did not have much time. She glanced over at Willow who was standing next to her, wringing her hands.

"Wh-what'll we do?" the redhead whispered, looking anxiously at the sleeping blonde.

Tara frowned and shook her head. "She's lucky she's even alive now. I've only ever seen someone come out of it _this _bad once."

Willow paled and swooned slightly, but did not faint. "We can't…I-I can't just let her _die_!" she replied, swallowing hard.

"We're not…I think I can help her, but I don't have enough power on my own…"

"What do you need me to do?" the redhead replied without hesitation.

Tara smiled slightly, took the redhead's hand in one of hers, and placed her other hand on Buffy's temple. "Just concentrate."

Curious, Willow did as she was told, watching the tall blond close her eyes and murmur softly in a language she had never heard before. She followed suit and closed her eyes, allowing the channels of energy to open between them. Almost immediately, she felt energy and magic seeping through her and into Tara, it felt warm and familiar and she smiled internally.

She could hear Tara's voice all around her in layers of soft whispering. The warm feeling of the connection suddenly grew hot as the Tara tapped into more of her energy, causing her to shiver. Willow suddenly felt something familiar, something she had not felt so vividly in a long time; it was Darkness. She felt it bleed out of her and through Tara, causing her to snap her eyes open and break her concentration.

"Stop." She said breathlessly. "We have to stop."

Tara blinked a few times and turned towards her with a questioning expression, her eyes had grown dark, almost indigo, and the redhead breathed a sigh of relief that the whites of the blonde's eyes were still white.

"What's wrong?" the older woman asked innocently, genuinely puzzled.

"Didn't you…didn't you feel it?"

"Feel what?"

Willow looked away, ashamed. "The…_My_ darkness." With her face turned away, the redhead missed the smile Tara gave her.

"I've noticed that _ages _ago, Willow. I need it, _Buffy_ needs it."

"Wh-what?" she turned her attention back to the woman next to her and Tara squeezed her hand gently.

"The wind isn't very complicated. It goes through a person and saps up their energy. The end result is either death, or something worse. If she doesn't die, she'll wake up."

"Isn't that good?"

"Not if we can't get most of the wind out. If she wakes up then…she won't _be_ Buffy any more."

As if in a testament to her statement, Buffy sighed in her sleep, but on the heels of the sigh was an unearthly, but quiet growl.

"If we don't give the wind enough darkness to sate it, it won't leave its host until it, or the host, is destroyed." She continued quickly, eyeing the slumbering slayer warily. "You were lucky, you only had a little bit so you just had to stay awake and let it pass." She faced Willow and took her other hand, unsure of why she felt the need to reassure the other woman. "We _have_ to do this, Willow. It's either that, or wait until she wakes up and then it'll be too late."

The redhead let out a burst of air she had been holding in and looked back and forth between the two blondes before nodding slowly and dropping one of Tara's hands. She would do it. There was clearly no other alternative. The older witch had closed her eyes again and gone back to trying to bribe the miasma out of the Slayer's body.

Willow sighed and closed her eyes again, her chest tightening in nervous anxiousness. Of course Tara had no idea how hard this was for her; she could not remember their fights, or leaving, or…

_"Stop feeling sorry for yourself."_ A voice in the back of her mind whispered hotly, drowning out the sound of Tara's voice. _"She's here now, next to you. Don't you feel the power you share? Don't you feel how much _stronger_ you could be? Doesn't it feel _right_?"_

The darkness that she had been denying for so long was being flooded through her system and it reached out to her as it was pulled across her subconscious. Willow tried not to listen, she reminded herself that she was only doing this to help Buffy, but it _did _feel right. She tried to concentrate on her breathing, to close herself off from the onslaught of power coursing through her, to resist the urge to reach out to it and take from it but her resolve was weakening. Just when she felt she might lose her grip on herself, the flow of power stopped, leaving a dull ache in its sudden absence.

She opened her eyes slowly and looked over at Tara whose eyes were squeezed shut. A thick black cloud of greasy looking smoke hung in the air above Buffy's body. Willow watched in pseudo-fascination as the older witch, eyes still closed, waved her hand and the bedroom window flew open. The little cloud, now heavy with the darkness it was fed, shot out of the window, pushing both women backwards and onto the floor.

"It worked?" Willow asked, pulling herself up into a sitting position. Helping Tara up with her, she tried not to be unsettled with the blackness of the other woman's eyes. The blonde shuddered slightly and nodded.

"We've just got to wait for her to wake up…" came the shaky reply. "Make sure she won't slip into a coma or anything." She stopped Willow from standing with a gentle pull on the redhead's hand. "We should let her sleep. I mean…_actually_ sleep. Her body's been through a lot."

Willow nodded and repositioned herself so that her back rested against the door and watched Tara from her peripheral vision. If she had had the courage, this would have been the perfect time to talk to the blonde about her past, about the dimension she had come from. Willow had faced vampires, demons, gods and public high school yet she was still apprehensive about talking to Tara. She could not even bring herself to telling the other woman that Buffy was the Slayer.

Willow was afraid of what that discussion would bring. She was afraid of explaining the parts about how she had betrayed the once shy and self-conscious witch. She was afraid of how deeply growing up in this hell dimension had affected the blonde. Would she try to fight Buffy? _Could_ she? What would Tara think when she found out how Willow had betrayed her trust? She had allowed Tara to believe her assumptions on how she had gotten to the hell dimension because she was scared to tell her the truth. She was afraid that telling the blonde that she had died would have been too much to handle. The younger witch had the idea in her head that she would just lay everything out on the table and le the chips fall where they may, but once she had actually _seen_ the blonde alive and well, all presumptions dissipated into nothingness.

Tara leaned her head back against the wall and watched the other woman's unfocused gaze as she lost herself in thought. She wondered why Willow was afraid of the power within her, what had happened to cause her to be so apprehensive about the darkness inside her. She had too many questions and not enough words in which to ask them. Willow intrigued her. When she was with the smaller woman, Tara felt a peace that she had not known possible. If she was being honest with herself, it frightened her.

Logically, she knew she was being ridiculous, but without her memories, all of these feelings were brand new to her. As far as she was concerned, she had lived this one life in this Sunnydale. Ever since she had come into contact with Willow, Tara felt her very foundations shaken to the core. She _wanted_ to know about where she had come from, especially the parts about being with the redhead; but she was afraid. She was afraid of what Willow was not telling her.

Tara had always been an observant person. She knew that there was a lot the redhead was keeping from her, and not just details the blonde could not remember. The fact that she had even lost her memory in the first place spoke volumes to Tara. A magical surge from a spell of some type seemed the most logical explanation on how she happened to come to Eurynomus' dimension, but the hesitation with which Willow accepted the explanation and how the redhead did not elaborate seemed to imply that there was more going on.

A simple power surge would have explained how she had gotten there, but not how she had lost her memory or had started her entire life over again in this dimension. It did not explain Willow's reaction when they had met at the magic shop, it did not explain nearly enough to satisfy Tara's curiosity but she hesitated to learn more. They were together now, and everything else seemed like a minor detail. Tara had the feeling that something big was happening around them, something that they could not fully picture. Whatever it was, she felt that it was certainly more than what Eurynomus' was planning and she felt that she and Willow were in the thick of it.

Tara closed her eyes, feeling suddenly tired as the remnants of the black magic from the spell drained out of her. She had too much on her plate, too much to think about, too much to do. She felt a sense of urgency about the situation, the little 'mission' Eurynomus had set her on. Whatever was going to happen, it was going to happen soon and Tara was not sure if she was ready. Opening her eyes and glancing over at Willow whose head was planted firmly in her hands, an expression of deep contemplation on her face, Tara knew immediately and without question that whatever was going to happen, she would protect Willow.


	16. The Great Divide

"She's rather insolent, my Lord." Asmodeus rumbled behind him, his heavy footsteps echoing around the marbled hallway.

Eurynomus smiled broadly. "Quite." He agreed. "I rather like it though; I can see why young Maxwell is so taken with her."

"Master, you're sure that Tara will do what is necessary?"

The pale demon scoffed and waved his hand flippantly. "Of course! I've given her the illusion of choice, sewed the seed of doubt. It's been a week since she and I had our little heart to heart, her uncertainty must be festering quite nicely by now. Come now, Asmodeus, I'm a _professional_. You don't honestly believe that _I_ would let her make the wrong choice, do you?"

"Of course not, my Lord. Forgive me."

Eurynomus offered a tilt of his head in response and slipped through the front door that the red demon had opened for him. "At any rate," he continued. "I _do_ have a backup plan. Maxwell has been more or less wooing the Slayer in the hopes of finding her weaknesses, should it come to that. Soon now, Asmodeus…I can feel it in my bones, we will have our Queen soon."

*

Tara was walking next to Willow, their hands clasped together. The redhead and Buffy were talking animatedly on how to get back to their own dimension and could not seem to agree on anything. Buffy was under the impression that Willow had to perform the spell that had gotten them there in the first place and Willow was insisting that the time frame in which to perform it was lost and would not be open again for another forty years.

"…and even if I _could_," the younger Wicca was saying as they waited for the light to change at a crosswalk. "Don't you think we're still here for a _reason_? Don't you get that there's more to this than what we'd originally thought?"

Truthfully, Tara was not really paying attention to the conversation. They spoke about the spell only in vague terms; she knew she did not understand everything they said fully. Buffy rolled her eyes and stomped across the street a few paces ahead of them, grumbling under her breath. The Slayer had recovered from the evil wind quite nicely; suffering from nothing more than two days of fatigue. While the petite blonde was recuperating, Willow had told Tara more about the dimension she had come from, about some of the people she once knew and what life was like in the alternate Sunnydale.

The tall witch suspected that Willow still had not told her everything, and she was not sure how to feel about that. The subject of their relationship was generally met with initial enthusiasm, but the more the redhead spoke about her memories, the further her face would fall. She was not sure of what to make of Willow's strange behavior. The night before, Tara had gone over to talk to her and find out more about where she had come from. When the younger witch had opened the door, she was all smiles, beaming from ear to ear until she suddenly burst into tears, her hand clamped over her mouth.

Tara had not even said hello, so she could not have said anything wrong. She looked down where Willow's gaze had pulled before the sobbing overtook her; at her clothes: a long-sleeved shirt in light purplish blue and blue jeans. It was not anything horrific, but the look on Willow's face could only have been described with the word _terror_. She had hiccupped a few times, shook her head and ushered the blonde in.

"I-I'm sorry," she had choked out in response to the blonde's questioning stare. "Y-your shirt…" she stopped suddenly and shuddered as if she had just realized she had said something she should not have. She turned away for a moment and Tara had wrapped her arms around the redhead's waist, the center of her chest clenching partly in sympathy and partly with something that disturbed her profoundly, but could not name.

No, Willow was definitely not telling her everything. Tara had her secrets too; though she had told the redhead about her prestige as a dealer, which Willow had been strangely quiet about, she just could not bring herself to telling the other woman about the dreams she had been having. After some of the stories she had heard, the blonde was convinced they were her memories returning, but she was afraid.

Whatever Willow was not saying, it was clearly very painful. She had very nearly coaxed the redhead into telling her once, but she had just stared at the blonde intently before crushing their lips together as if they would never see each other again. Tara was not sure she _wanted_ to remember what would invoke a reaction with such desperate need behind it. She was not sure what would be expected of her if anyone knew she was remembering things. Most of all, she felt if she said it aloud, Eurynomus would surely find out.

Tara was well learned in all things magic. She had even read every book in Wyrd that could have been opened without losing your soul, starting an apocalypse, or summoning anything. She knew a lot about interdimensional travel and things were just not adding up. It made no sense that she had started her life over completely. She had considered the possibility that her memories could have been implanted, but she had nixed the idea after testing it against a spell. As far as the blonde figured, her soul had shifted dimensions, but not her body.

It made no sense that she had no memories of anything other than this dimension. While it was true that something as dangerous as interdimensional travel could potentially render a person amnesiac, the effects were short, a few days at most. Eurynomus had purposely erased her memories, probably before her soul entered this dimension. Tara also did not understand why her memories were returning. If they had been erased from her very soul, she should not have anything to remember. Why had she remembered Willow? Why were they _here_? There had to have been more to everything than just Hell having a queen. Until she knew what it was for sure, she could not risk anyone knowing about her memories. Not even Willow.

"I think you _want_ to stay here!" Buffy shouted, snapping Tara out of her thoughts.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean, exactly?!" Willow hissed through clenched teeth. They had stopped walking and were standing in the middle of the sidewalk in front of Wyrd. "Don't dance around it, _Buffy_. Just say it!"

Tara had missed everything that had led up to the Slayer's outburst, but its effect on the redhead was clear. Willow's grip on her hand had tightened slightly and her back tensed up. She was irritated.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Buffy retorted, though the tone of her voice sounded as if she knew exactly what she was talking about.

The blonde witch felt Willow's hand tingle with magic. She was _very_ irritated.

"How typical of you!" the redhead spat out, dropping Tara's hand and placing both of her own on her hips. "You can't even just come out and _say_ it, can you, Buffy? You can _never_ just _say_ it! Shit doesn't go away just because you ignore it, or pretend it never happened!"

"Obviously." The Slayer snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her gaze triumphantly.

Tara had been standing slightly behind Willow when they had stopped walking, so she could not see her reaction, but she saw the redhead recoil suddenly as if she had been slapped. Buffy's face fell and she dropped her arms to her side, deflated.

"Willow," she started lowly, her gaze dropping to her feet. "I…"

"Save it." The green-eyed witch cut off, shaking her head, her back muscles tightening impossibly further. Her voice was low and even. For some reason, that unsettled Tara deeply. "I really should have known better, huh, Buffy? I don't _need_ this." She said, her voice steeling with her resolve. "I don't need _you_."

Buffy's eyes grew wide and she opened and closed her mouth a few times. Tara did not bother to cover her giggle; the small blonde looked like a beached fish.

"Willow, I didn't mean…"

"_Yes_, you _did_!" the redhead seethed, interrupting once more. "You don't think I know what you guys talked about when I wasn't in the room? You don't think I didn't notice that you'd all stop talking when I walked in? How you _all_ tensed up? You can believe in _Angelus_, but not in me? I thought…" she trailed off and dropped her arms to her sides, some of her anger leaving her. She shook her head. "It doesn't matter what I thought. It doesn't matter…" she glanced over her shoulder and offered Tara a bright smile, which the blonde witch happily returned. "It doesn't matter, Buffy. _You_ figure out a way home. I'm not your sidekick anymore. Maybe you should stop thinking that the world revolves around you, Buffy. Maybe you should think about what other people are going through before you decide to get so self-righteous. _You_ were the one who wasn't there, Buffy, not me."

Tara was not sure what they were referring to, but she was interested in the shocked expression on the Slayer's face. She looked as if she had just figured out that two and two equaled four, and not ice cream. The petite blonde opened her mouth as if to say something but a strangled sob escaped instead and she pivoted on her heel and ran away in the opposite direction before they could see any of her tears fall. Willow stood in silence, watching the Slayer dash away from them.

Tara took a step forward so that she was standing next to the shorter woman and watched her from her peripheral vision. Willow had told her about Buffy being the Slayer and she had feigned surprise convincingly, though it actually had come as a shock that the redhead had been more or less the tiny blonde's lackey. The idea of the powerful witch next to her being second to Buffy of all people was nearly laughable.

Still, Willow had spoken highly, if not a little sadly, of the Slayer. Tara had found out that Buffy and the woman next to her had been mostly inseparable since their first meeting. As far as the blonde Wicca could tell, the rift between the two had started sometime before or sometime after she had ended up in this dimension, as it was one of the things Willow could not bring herself to talk about. Tara had a suspicion that the two events were connected, but she could not ask Willow and she was still wary of Buffy since Eurynomus divulged the Slayer's plan for the redhead.

She was naturally distrustful of the plot to kill the redhead, if only because of the source of the information, but Eurynomus would have a lot to lose should Willow die. At any rate, Buffy was the Slayer, she had to have been privy to the darkness contained within Willow's slight frame. As the Slayer, it was her job to eradicate evil. From what the redhead had told her, the pietistic blonde had even run a sword through her own boyfriend to stop an apocalypse. Despite the information having come from a known and admitted manipulator, the notion had nothing but merit.

"Do you want to go in?" Tara asked gently, breaking the silence. They had made the trek to Wyrd with the intentions of finding any information that would lead them out of Eurynomus' Sunnydale. There was no such information in the magic shop, but Tara had not said anything in the hopes of catching Buffy slipping up and of course, spending more time with Willow.

Willow pulled her gaze away from the end of the street where the Slayer had long since disappeared from sight and offered the blonde next to her a small smile, her green eyes shining with standing tears.

"Are you hungry?" she replied, taking Tara's hand once more and leading them past the magic shop.

"Willow…" she recognized an avoidance tatic when she heard one, blatant or not. It never ceased to amaze her that she had some sort of inherent knowledge as to the inner workings of the redhead's personality without being able to remember her fully.

Personally, Tara did not care if they ever made it back to the other Sunnydale and she was beginning to suspect that Willow did not either. It was clear that things were tumultuous back where they had come from. The redhead spoke of all her friends only in the past tense as if the best times with them were behind her. Even so, Tara did not want to give Buffy a reason to harass Willow. She glanced briefly behind them, expecting the aforethought of blonde to jump out at them with an accusatory 'ah-ha!' She knew that Willow had told Buffy the nature of the dimension they were in and she was worried that the Slayer would go on a batman-esque vigilante rampage.

"I meant what I said to her." The redhead replied after a few moments of contemplation. "I'm not her sidekick anymore. She only treats me like a member of her research team when it suits her and I'm so tired of playing the reliable old dog begging for table scraps. Let her find her own way back."

Tara smiled warmly as they continued down the sidewalk, the street lamps flickering to life around them. Part of her wished that she could have taken credit for Willow's turn in attitude, but it was not her doing. She knew that she was supposed to be feeding the redhead darkness, but she could only bring herself to send it out in small waves which had absolutely no effect on the immense wall of blackness that surrounded Willow.

"I could eat." She responded cheerily.

*

"_Who does she think she is?!"_ Buffy fumed as she stormed down the darkening streets with no destination in mind. If it would not have attracted a mountain of unwanted attention, she would have gone on patrol, but she had enough common sense to know not to try and announce her presence someplace where she was outnumbered six billion to one.

Tears still stung her eyes and she wiped her face petulantly. _"How could she even say that _I_ wasn't there for her? Hello? Whose house does she think she's living in?"_ Granted, the redhead had been living there with Tara to take care of Dawn, but that was beside the point.

The truth was that Buffy was scared. She was scared of having to confront why it was so hard for her to forgive the redhead. She had been distancing herself from Willow even before Tara had been killed. On the surface, it was easier to blame her former best friend, so that was what she did. It was hard being the Slayer, having the weight of the world on her shoulders; so she took whatever opportunity she could to lighten her burden. At least, that was what she told herself. Buffy knew that deep down, she just _could not_ forgive Willow because of what that would do to her own sanity and sense of well being.

"_Willow's the self-righteous one!" _ She thought indignantly. She kept her expression neutral as she stalked past a small group of demons standing outside a liquor store as if the sight were a common occurrence for her. _"How could she even think of staying in a place where the bad guys hang out in the open like this?"_ The answer of course, was Tara. The answer was _always_ Tara. Buffy felt it was something more, however.

She had been noticing over the last week or so that Willow had been acting a little differently. She was curter with her, more irritable. She wanted to believe it was the dimension making her that way, but she knew better. The hell dimension was just an excuse, something to allay her fears. Buffy was sure that even if they were transported home right that second, the chasm between her and the hacker would have still had to be crossed with a suspension bridge.

The Slayer wanted nothing more than to be done with the whole situation, but upon finding out that this was Eurynomus' personal hell; she realized that there was far more to the situation than the Fates had explained to her. Unfortunately, because of her own private fears, she was not able to agree with Willow when she had said that they were here for a reason. Buffy had the sinking suspicion that maybe the Fates were right. If they were right about one thing, they were undoubtedly right about everything else and the Slayer refused to accept the alternative.

She would find a way home. She would find a way without Willow's help and the Slayer would bring Willow and Tara back. Alive. Even if it killed her.

**AN: **Don't ask me what Buffy's referring to in regards to her feelings about why she can't forgive Willow. Be patient, you'll find out =)


	17. Here's What Really Happened

Buffy hoisted herself up on the short brick wall that ran along the perimeter Restfield Cemetery and swung her legs back and forth, all but kicking the wall with each downswing of her feet. Despite being in a hell dimension, she had yet to fight any demons and felt restless. Even in the relative quiet and seclusion of the cemetery, she could feel them all around her; her muscles were constantly twitching in an attempt to spur her into action. Instead, she kicked the wall a little harder with the heel of her shoes, feeling slightly satisfied as a few of the red bricks underneath her cracked, stone fragments jettisoning away from the wall and disappearing as they landed in the grass.

Buffy wanted to go home, where things made more sense. She sighed heavily and ran a hand through her hair, squinting up at the sky, looking for answers. She had no idea where to start finding a way home. Not without Willow. The indignant fire that had been fueling her for the last two hours was now nothing but embers.

_"What am I supposed to do?"_ she lamented to herself, ceasing her destructive cadence against the wall. She wondered what would have happened if she had not gone into Willow's room that night. Most assuredly, Willow would not have come back. Buffy frowned at the thought. Regardless of how she felt, she had not lied to the Fates when she had told them that she loved the lithe hacker. It was because of that that she could not forgive her.

Buffy felt that if she was going to be the one to get them home, she had to do it soon. Something was happening around them, something that had to do with the three of them; Willow, Tara, and herself. It was more than just finding Tara, it was more than forgiving Willow, Buffy just could not put her finger on it and that infuriated her.

Her mind drifted to thoughts of the once painfully shy witch. Willow had explained to her that while Tara was not technically evil, she could channel the darkness without it taking her over. Truthfully, Buffy was just as afraid for Tara as she was for Willow. The blonde witch had always seemed so far removed from darkness that Buffy had had a difficult time believing that the witch was a _dealer_ of all things. She worried what that was doing to Tara's soul, which obviously did not belong here. She worried what that meant for Willow, if the redhead would be able to keep the darkness away when there was nothing stopping her from taking it.

Most of all, Buffy worried about the very real possibility of killing her best friend. It disturbed her that the Moirae had been so adamant about the redhead dying with a clear conscious. She did not want to accept their mission. Saving Willow's soul, she could do. She could save anything; it was in her job description. Murder? Not so much. That was another thing that had struck Buffy; why was _she_ there? When she had been transported to the Temple of the Fates, they had said she was early, but it was all right; even though they had not been expecting her so soon, they would send her anyways.

It bothered Buffy that she could not figure out why exactly she was needed, other than to carry out the Fates' morbid task. Why _had_ she decided to go into Willow's room? Why had she picked up the Energumen Eye and put it in her pocket? She felt sick with the realization that the Fates had been right; there was no fighting her Destiny. It had all led her to the spot she was in now, sitting alone on a brick wall, driving away the very person that she had been sent to protect.

Buffy hopped off her perch gracefully and meandered away from Restfield with no destination in mind. She wondered how long they had been gone in her world. She tried to calculate the math in her head, using Tara's death date in their home dimension and the blonde witch's current age as markers, but she had never been good at math. Nearly limitless supernatural powers as a Slayer and her kid sister was still better with numbers.

She shoved her hands in her pockets and out of habit, stayed to the shadows of the street, avoiding the bright pools of orange light from the streetlamps. It did not matter, at any rate. The flow of time had been stopped in her own dimension, they could be in the hell dimension for a hundred years and no one would have ever known. How was she supposed to explain going back with Tara, but not Willow? What would Tara do to her if she killed Willow? The thought of the blonde witch causing her any bodily harm had once been a preposterous notion, but Willow had gone completely mad when Tara died and the older woman was no longer the passive person she had once been.

Buffy thought that perhaps she should talk to the blonde, explain a little of the situation. She knew that Willow had not told Tara everything; but Tara had always been helpful in the past. She secretly thought of her as a less stuffy Giles. It was risky, she was not sure what the redhead had not told her exactly, just that she did not know that she had died or the specificities of the spell Willow had performed to get them there in the first place. Obviously, she could not ask the redhead anymore. She would have to be careful about how she approached Tara.

Frowning, she turned her thoughts to Willow. Their earlier argument still pinched a nerve in her heart and she was doing her best not to feel downtrodden. She should have never snapped at the hacker. She _definitely_ should not have been so cold, but sometimes her mouth said things without clearing it with her brain first.. If she could just get them all out of there in one piece, maybe everything would turn out all right; though the knot in her stomach told her everything was _far_ from all right.

*

Willow sighed contentedly as Tara's fingers gently combed through her hair. They were sitting in the well-kept garden of Tara's small backyard; the blonde was leaning against the back of her house with Willow's head in her lap. The redhead shifted slightly so she could watch Tara simply existing. Her eyes were closed and she was humming softly, almost absentmindedly with a nigh unnoticeable smile on her face.

The air was filled with the sounds of crickets, interrupted only by the low noises of cars driving down the quiet street every so often. Closed in by a high wooden fence just barely visible through the creeping ivy that covered it, they could have been on a different planet for all Willow knew. The hacker watched the lazy flight patterns of some manner of blue lightning bug when suddenly, a decision she had not even been aware she was pondering made itself abundantly clear. She was not going back.

The more she thought about it, the more logical it seemed. What reason did she have to go back? While it was a valid point that that dimension was technically a hellish one, what made it really that much different from the Sunnydale from which she had come? Sure, she would miss _nearly_ everyone, but would they even notice if she never came back? Willow wanted to be wherever Tara was, and Tara was here. If the Fates were wrong about the blonde witch remembering her, then it was feasible that they could have been wrong about Tara being in trouble in the first place. She did not blame them, of course. She assumed that being a Higher Being was tiring work. They were bound to get tired and mess up occasionally, just look at the platypus. The decision lifted a burden off her shoulders that she had not realized she had been carrying and Willow felt immediately as if everything were clearer than they had been in the entirety of the last year.

"I'm not going back." The redhead said aloud. There had been no sound other than the cadence of night insects and Tara's humming for the better part of two hours and her voice had come out in a whisper, gaining clarity as she reached the end of her revelation.

"Hmm?" Tara asked behind her, opening her eyes and leaning over slightly so that she could look into Willow's face.

The petite witch grinned, she felt giddy. "I'm not going back!" she announced.

Tara's hands stilled their absentminded job of twisting auburn locks through fingers and the blonde cocked her head to one side. "Going back where?" she asked innocently. "To the Amphora?"

Willow shook her head and sat up. This was serious conversation and she felt it would be more proper if she were upright. She took the blonde's hands in her own and squeezed them gently before taking a breath and explaining herself. "_Buffy's_ Sunnydale." She started. "I don't think I belong there anymore…" she looked down for a moment and the puff of air she let out was almost wistful in nature. However, when she returned her gaze back to the blue eyes concentrating on her, she was smiling. "I mean…that is…if that's what you want."

Tara appeared to contemplate the idea deeply and leaned back against the house again, pulling Willow with her so that they sat side by side with the hacker's head on her shoulder. "Well, I've never _been_ to Buffy's Sunnydale." The blonde said, putting her arm around the redhead's shoulder and drawing her in closer. "…You know what I mean." She added as an afterthought. "You could…you could live here?" Tara felt Willow's shoulders shrug against her.

"Why not? As far as hell dimensions go, it's not that bad. Honestly? It's not that different than the other Sunnydale. Besides, you've lived here twenty-three years and _you're_ not evil."

"No, I suppose not…but Willow, I'm not afraid of the darkness. We can't…you can't survive here if you're constantly _afraid_."

"I'm not…" the younger witch started indignantly before she realized Tara was right. Maybe that was her problem. She was afraid of the darkness. She had learned to become afraid of the power inside her, afraid to control it, afraid to take it, afraid to use it. It was time for that to end. She lifted her face up to look into the blonde's concerned countenance and smiled. Even here, even now, Tara was still worried about her. "Could you teach me to not be afraid?"

The taller woman smiled gently and placed a kiss on Willow's forehead. "I could, and I will…what about Buffy?"

The redhead wrinkled her nose. "I don't think…I don't think we should tell her. We're going to help her find a way back, but she's going to go alone. I know you don't understand, but Buffy was my best friend and I got her into this so I at least owe her a way back." She stopped suddenly and sat up again, the blonde's arm falling to her side. "And…I…I owe you too."

"Me?" Tara asked, the confusion clear on her face.

Willow looked away at the flickering of the blue lightning bugs, illuminating the backyard like stars in their own right. She glanced up at the heavens, trying to pull some courage down from the sky and was met with the Big Pineapple constellation. Her smile returning, she stood up and helped the blonde to her feet. They needed to go inside. "I owe you some explanations."

*

Buffy still had not gone back to the Amphora on the off chance that Willow had gotten back before her. She was contemplating whether or not it would be a foolish endeavor to spend the night next to the lake. She _was_ the Slayer after all. That either made her the safest person or the least safest person in the whole dimensions, depending on how you looked at it. She was stubbornly optimistic when it came to being a Slayer and decided that she would not have been in any real danger.

She watched from the shadows of a large tree as a couple holding hands stolled along the path that ran the circuit of the lake. It would have been a completely uninteresting scene if the man holding onto his girlfriend's hand had not had blue skin or horns. She felt like she was in an episode of The Twilight Zone, the whole dimension was ridiculous.

Buffy had decided that the first thing tomorrow, she would go back to the magic store and see if she could find Tara. It was doubtful that Willow would not be around, but she would go just to see if the opportunity would present itself. She had to get them home while there was still time. She was filled with a sense of urgency, of impending catastrophe and as much as she sometimes overestimated her own abilities, her gut instinct was rarely wrong.

She turned away from the lake and slunk silently through the shadows and towards the Amphora. Maybe it was late enough to where Willow had already gone to bed. If that were the case, she would just have to get up earlier than the redhead and try to catch Tara at the magic shop. Buffy was still unsure as to what she would say to the blonde, but she was hoping her ability to think on her feet would not leave her before tomorrow.

*

Willow had not looked at her since she had stopped speaking thirty minutes ago. Tara watched her study the beige carpet under her bare feet, wriggling her toes nervously. The light from the kitchen spilled dimly into the living room. The blonde was not quite sure what to do with any of the information she had just learned. She stared down at her hands surreally, flexing her fingers a few times to check and see if she were still operating.

So the redhead had become addicted to the darkness. _That_ was why she was so afraid of it. In the other dimension, witches were taught to fear it rather than understand it fully. She thought she had understood why Willow had become a junkie, but rather than being solely after the power, the redhead had wanted to help. She had wanted to be strong enough to protect everyone she cared about and had lost herself.

Truthfully, Tara was upset about her behavior even though she could not remember their fights. She should have been teaching the redhead to touch the power, but not let it consume her wholly, to keep it from destroying her. The idea that she _would not _have done that perplexed her; she must have been just as afraid as Willow. It had been a stupid thing she had done by leaving. Tara was sure that at the time, she must have figured it was the best thing to do, but she had first hand knowledge of the instability of a magic junkie. The ones that did not have anything to hold on to either died or were subjected to something worse in their never-ending quest for the next fix.

Part of her wanted to be angry with Willow for toying with her memory; but she could see how in the mind of an addict, her actions had been perfectly harmless. Besides, it was clear by the hacker's hunched over frame on the armchair across from her that she had punished herself enough. Her gut told her that she had probably punished herself _too_ much.

Tara had been the cause of a few overdoses herself and she felt a ripple of anger wash over her that someone could have done that to Willow. At least she understood why the redhead was so afraid of her darkness and even why there seemed to be a wide riff between Buffy and Willow, but she felt there was more. As if in response to her thoughts, the redhead looked up at her, a crestfallen expression on her face.

"How did you learn to suppress the cravings?" the blonde witch asked.

"I…went to live with a coven, in England." She replied quietly. Her tone had been quiet and pensive since they had come inside.

"_A whole coven?" _ Tara thought in wonderment. _"Whatever she did, it must have been huge…"_ she recalled suddenly, the conversation she had had with Eurynomus about Willow and the darkness that dwelled within her. "What did you do?" she asked aloud.

The redhead dropped her gaze back to the carpet; she looked exhausted. "I wanted…" she heaved a shaky sigh and ran a hand through her hair but did not look up. "I wanted to stop…s-stop hur…hurting. I wanted _everyone_ to stop hurting. Everyone's pain…" she wrapped her arms around herself at the memory and shuddered through the room was warm. "Everyone suffering…it was just, it was too much. I wanted to end it, all of it. For good." She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying and sniffed a few times before continuing. "I tried to obliterate existence. I almost did, too." She whispered finally, turning her head to stare at the bookshelf next to her.

Tara did not bother to hide her wide-eyed shock. _"Obliterate? But that takes more power than Eurynomus has..." _she rose off the couch and crossed the room to where Willow was sitting, still staring across from her. Kneeling down next to the armchair, she startled the redhead by gently tucking two fingers underneath her chin and forcing Willow's gaze to meet hers. "_Who_ hurt you so badly? She asked quietly, slightly surprised that her voice was laced with such acidic malice.

The redhead stared into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity and Tara felt herself calm down while fixated on the green orbs. "I killed him." She said simply and strongly. Her gaze did not falter and she did not look as if she were apologizing for her actions.

"Then he deserved it." She replied automatically. Willow did not seem the type to kill indiscriminately, or even at all, now that she really thought about it. Whatever he had done, it must have been unforgivable. "What did he do to you?"

The hacker showed a flicker of a smile on her face, but it was gone before it could truly take hold and she lifted her hand to the blonde's face, running a thumb along Tara's cheekbone. "It's what he did to _you_." She responded.

"…me?"

Willow nodded. "I've been…I've been trying to tell you but I can't get the words out. They…they still hurt too much, even though you're here. Every time I try, I'm afraid that this'll all just be a dream and I'll wake up to another day without you in it."

"He…he convinced me to leave?" she asked, puzzled.

Willow shut her eyes for a moment, it would have been so easy agree, just to leave it at that, but she would never lie to Tara again. Even though the blonde could not remember any of their arguments, or her betrayal; the redhead remembered every single one with crystal clarity. "I told you about the first time I ever _really_ tapped into the darkest magic…"

Tara nodded, she was glad she did not remember what Glory had done to her, but she felt her chest fill with a warm, inexplicable feeling about what Willow had gone through to rescue her. She had gone up against Glorificus, who was not unknown to Tara; entered someone's mind and returned unscathed, brought the Slayer back from the dead and nearly unmade existence. Any doubt that Willow could have assumed the throne of Hell dissipated within her.

"Well, that hadn't worked the way I wanted it to obviously…but I remember that I didn't feel helpless. I wasn't depending on _Buffy_ to save me or you, or even herself. I just…I just didn't want to feel helpless anymore but…but the power felt _good_ too. I never thought that you'd ever actually leave, so when you did, I went a little crazy."

Tara put a sympathetic hand on the redhead's knee. Even now, she would not suffer herself a junkie; though she felt she had gone about it the wrong way in Willow's case. She supposed that because she had not been a magic dealer in Buffy's Sunnydale, she had merely been trying to handle the situation the best she could.

"After you left, I turned Amy back into…well, Amy and she started taking me to magic dens for quick fixes."

Tara nodded, she had giggled ecstatically a few days ago when Willow had explained about the Amy in her dimension.

"At first, I didn't think it was a big deal…I didn't know the consequences of what was going on…but I was high and I got Buffy's sister hurt…she…she could have died." She laughed self-deprecatingly. "Goddess, Buffy would have _killed_ me."

The blonde tensed, she did not find that particular thought very amusing.

"After that, I decided that I just couldn't do it anymore. It had stopped being about protecting people I loved and it was more about having fun, getting high, and feeling powerful. I quit going to the dealer and I told Amy to take a hike. I was getting better. You even came back." She smiled slightly.

Tara returned the smile and waited patiently for Willow to continue. Instead, the redhead took the blonde's hand in her own and kissed her knuckles lightly before cradling the hand to her cheek. They sat like that in silence for a few minutes, Tara's hand on the hacker's cheek and Willow's eyes staring searchingly into hers. The blonde felt something important transpire between their stares.

The green of the redhead's eyes was the ground upon which she stood and the blue of her own eyes was the sky in which Willow flew. She understood now what had happened, what she had seen in Willow's palm that night, why she had felt like she too, had lost something and why her chest clenched in sympathetic pain whenever the redhead had tried to attempt this conversation before. Thankfully, her chest was still except for the warm feeling that she was growing accustomed to in Willow's presence.

The redhead saw the realization dawn on the woman kneeling in front of her and she nodded slowly, unable to stop the tears that spilled silently down her cheeks.

"How?" Tara whispered, not ceasing the ministrations on the other witch's cheek, feeling that if they lost contact, she would find herself losing her composure.

"The morning after you came back to me..." Willow sniffed. You were standing by the…the window…you were…you were wearing my shirt." She trailed off for a moment and shuddered again. "I just heard the window break and you had b-been…sh-sh…" she took a ragged breath. "Shot." She managed.

The blonde touched her free hand to the spot on her chest that usually clenched in tight pain and Willow nodded again. "I tried to…to bring you back. I demanded Osiris bring you back to me, but he wouldn't help me and I…I lost it. Completely. If Xander of all people hadn't talked me out of it, if I hadn't taken some of Giles' energy which was a little like having my own personal Jiminy Cricket…things would have been…" she trailed off and let the unfinished thought hang between them.

Tara sat back slightly, taking her hand from Willow's face to lean back on her hands. She felt her own tears well up and cascade down her cheeks and she let them. So it had not been a spell, she had been sent to Eurynomus' dimension purposely. Her heart ached for Willow. She was the one that had supposedly died, but it was Willow who had to deal with missing her, it was Willow that had come after her. She felt her body was too small for the admiration and love she felt for the redhead. While she did not condone an apocalypse as she rather enjoyed being alive, Tara had barely known Willow three weeks and already felt that she would slaughter anyone that hurt the younger witch. She could not even pretend to know what the other woman had gone through.

"H-how did you know where to f-find me?" she asked quietly.

The hacker shook her head slightly and dropped her eyes back to the floor. "I didn't. I thought you were d-de…"

"Dead."

Willow nodded. "We'd buried you and it had been a gun…I didn't think there was anything magical going on, but then, I wasn't really thinking that clearly then. I'm not…I'm not proud of what I did, but I'm not sorry either. I'm not sorry he's dead. I'm not sorry that I'm the one that killed him…Even with your memories, you have no idea what you mean to me. While I was in England, I found a transportation spell to the Moirae and at the first available opportunity, I used it. I was going to ask them to let me save you, that's all. Just start the day over and let me save you; but they told me you h-hadn't even…died, and that's when I came here."

Tara prided herself in her ability to take everything in stride. She viewed herself as a generally easy-going type of person, but to say that she was shocked would have been an understatement. She was reeling with the news and it made her a little dizzy. She tried desperately to recall the incident, but nothing happened. The blonde almost felt disconnected from the information, as if Willow were talking about someone else.

"Why are you telling me all this, Willow?" she asked, through her tone was not accusatory.

"I…I needed you to know everything. I guess it would have been easier to start over from scratch, but I think the Fates were wrong about some things. They told me that you wouldn't remember me at all but…but you _have_ Tara." She looked up at the blonde. "I didn't want to stay here with you on a lie. I want you to be able to make your own decision about what's going to happen. You can stay here, y-you can g-go back with Buffy too, but I wanted you to know everything before you decide one way or the other."

"What about you?"

Willow glanced up at the ceiling quickly, hoping to make her tears slide back into the ducts from whence they came, but she had no such luck. "I don't know. I don't want to go back unless you're there, there's nothing else for me there. I don't…I don't want to go back. I'm not even sure how to _get_ back, honestly, but I'm really only worried about how that affects Buffy."

They fell into a heavy silence, Tara lost in her own thoughts. She wondered why the redhead seemed to carry so much guilt with her. If she had come back, she had obviously forgiven Willow and it had not been her fault that she had been shot. The thought was still strange to her and she looked down at her chest, half expecting to see blood but there was nothing. Did she _want_ to go to the other dimension? What would people expect of her there? Would she have to go back to being the Tara that those people knew or the one she had become here? Which one was _really_ her?

She supposed that if she left, Eurynomus would be none too happy. She understood though, why she was chosen, why the pale demon had said she was the cause of Willow's darkness. Her heart, an organ which rarely spoke to her with any great sincerity, was telling her that she would be worse than a fool if she did not go wherever Willow was. Despite her feelings, something else was telling her to stay with the redhead; Willow would need her.

Meanwhile, the younger witch mistook the prolonged silence for something else and stood up quietly, eyes trained on the floor as she made her way across the living room and towards the front door. She had just gotten both socks and one shoe on when she felt Tara's presence behind her. She turned and was not surprised at the perturbed expression on the blonde's face.

"I know," the redhead started, slipping on her other shoe. "I'm leaving."

Tara put her hands on her hips. "I can see that." Her tone matched her expression and Willow's heart sank. She was afraid that it would go like this. "Why?"

"Why?" she repeated confusedly. "I thought…m-maybe you wanted me to go..." she explained as if it had been perfectly clear. Her hand was on the doorknob. "I-I understand, Tara. It was one of the risks I took in telling you everything…Why would you forgive me twice?" she laughed hollowly and shook her head. "I'm glad…I'm glad I could tell you though. I'm going to go back to the Amphora and try to find a way to send Buffy home. If…if you want to go too…Call me and I'll let you know if I've found anything. I just…Tara," she looked up, resolve on her face. "I want you to know that I love you. I love you more than I ever thought possible to love anyone else. I loved you then, and I love you now, but I understand why you're angry and I'm sorry."

Tara chuckled humorlessly and took Willow's hand off the doorknob. "Willow, do I _look_ like I'm mad at you?"

"A little." She replied honestly, looking down at the floor between them.

"Only because you're _leaving_!" she said, sighing. "You can't just drop something like that on me and take off because you think I'm _mad_!" she saw that her irritated tone was not the right way to get her message across so she pulled the redhead into her arms and held her in a tight embrace, resting her head on top of Willow's. "It's too far to walk anyways." She reasoned against the hacker's auburn hair.

"Y-you're sure you want me to stay?"

"Come on, silly, take your shoes off. You're not going anywhere if I have anything to say about it."


	18. The Spark that Started the Fire

_Tumbling clumsily into the laundry room, they slammed the door shut and locked it, backing up a few steps together to see how effective the door would be as a deterrent. It seemed that despite their environment, the doors at UC Sunnydale were not meant to withstand the onslaught of a demon or two as seconds later the door bulged inward, splintering slightly near the edges. It would not hold. _

_Tara felt her throat clench in terror and she was struck immobile by the deafening sound of the door being rammed into by the straightjacketed demon on the other side. The blonde was fairly certain that she would have nightmares about the rictus grins of the Gentlemen for the rest of her life; which at that point, amounted to how long they could keep the door barred. _

_She watched momentarily as Willow hobbled over to the soda machine pushed up against the wall, heaving her small frame onto the side, trying to shove it towards the door. Her brain still foggy with fear, Tara's muscles went on autopilot and she rushed over to the redhead to help her. They pushed with all their might, but it barely budged. The school had enough money to bolt a vending machine to a laundry room floor, but not enough to get thicker doors. If the situation had not been so dire, Tara would have almost certainly chuckled. _

_As it was, there was nothing funny about the situation and the relentless pounding was so loud that the blonde could feel every blow shake her. Willow stomped backwards exasperatedly and stumbled over her own feet as her twisted ankle gave out from underneath her, landing her on the ground with a noise that was lost to the unremitting slamming against the door. _

_Tara watched curiously, as a look of determination crossed the redhead's features as she focused on the soda machine intently. The vending machine jostled back and forth as an invisible force pushed and prodded it from its resting place. The movement stopped as Willow's energy left her and she slumped over, a defeated look on her face. _

_A particularly loud crack against the door nearly ripped it from its hinges and surprisingly, all the fear left Tara's body. She moved quickly to Willow's side, nearly skidding on her knees as she hit the smooth floor. Tara took Willow's hands in her own, their fingers entwining of their own accord. The redhead looked up at her and time seemed to stop completely. _

_Tara felt herself being pulled into the other woman's gaze and her body hummed with their now shared magic. As if by some mental agreement, they focused all their energy together and shot a singular gaze at the soda machine which barreled across the room as if it weighed nothing, stopping in front of the door firmly. Willow's eyes grew wide and she stared disbelieving between the blonde and the vending machine. _

_The blonde witch's skin felt electric and her hand was still clasped to the redhead's, though the green-eyed witch did not seem to notice. Tara smiled shyly as Willow beamed and gestured between them with her free hand and then made an expansive sweep towards the soda machine. _

_The incessant pounding on the door died down until there was nothing but the sound of their breathing. The blonde smiled again, partly out of sheer relief at being alive, and partly because of what they had just accomplished. Though they had had no other option, there had been no guarantee that the combination of their energies would have worked._

_Magic was a lot like people's personalities. Some of them grated on each other, some got along well, and some were perfectly attuned. Tara had sensed that there was something particular about Willow when she had first seen her at the Wicca group. She had been lucky that she had literally run into the redhead when she had, and even more fortunate that they were able to accomplish moving the vending machine as she generally preferred her heart in her chest and not thumping pitifully in the hands of the blue demons who had stolen everyone's voices. _

_She glanced through the curtain of golden hair that obscured her vision to watch the other woman who she was now convinced was a powerful witch, more powerful than she probably understood. Willow was still staring in awe at the vending machine, her eyes far away and not looking in her direction. Tara wondered what she was thinking about. The redhead's hand felt hot in hers though it was not uncomfortable. The river of magic that had opened between them still flowed through her and she was reluctant to let go of the younger witch's hand. Part of it was because she had never felt a magical connection with anyone before and the experience was unlike anything she had felt before. The other part of it was because Willow had been featured in all of her daydreams since Tara had first seen her walking around campus. _

_She smiled shyly as the redhead mouthed the words "That was…awesome!" excitedly, having clearly forgotten that they could not yet speak. For her part, Tara was actually thankful that she had no voice so she could not make an idiot out of herself by saying something stupid, though she could definitely think of worse places to be stranded._

*

Tara woke up slowly, a deep peaceful sleep she had not known before clung to her and she yawned silently. She smiled slowly as the remnants of her dream lodged themselves into her brain; it had to have been another memory. Willow had told her about how they had moved the soda machine and the Gentlemen, but now she _remembered_ it. As wakefulness returned to her more fully, she opened her eyes; surprised that the room was still dim with the light of the rising sun and she finally registered the weight at her side.

Willow was slumbering peacefully next to her, her clothes twisted pitifully about her as if she had been tossing and turning. Tara eased herself into a sitting position and lay on her side with her head in one hand to watch the hacker sleep. The redhead had seemed utterly drained last night and truthfully, the blonde had been completely exhausted emotionally too. Tara had led them to her room and they had spent the night merely clinging to one another.

She chuckled softly as the redhead mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep and reached out blindly, only settling down when her hand found Tara's. The blonde laced their fingers together and regarded the sleeping form next to her. Part of her still felt as if the information she had found out the night before had been about someone else. She felt confused, conflicted almost, but was not quite sure why.

Placing a kiss on the other witch's forehead, Tara sank back down onto her mattress with a sigh. She had not spoken to Willow about the other woman's admission of love the other night. She supposed that she had known the redhead loved her; it was abundantly clear in the depths of her green eyes. The strength and conviction with which she said it though, that was what startled Tara. Did she love the petite witch as well? It was obvious that she had before, in the other Sunnydale, but what about now? Could she put her fear aside and admit it not only to herself, but to the woman next to her as well?

The blonde pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand and squeezed her eyes shut so tightly, that when she opened them, bright spots of color flittered across her vision. She had been taught by her surroundings that the only thing a person should love was themselves. At least when you loved only yourself, you could not be used, hurt, or humiliated. That knowledge had always served her well in the past, Tara had never truly been emotionally attached to anyone excepting her mother for as long as she could remember. Willow though, Willow was different. She wondered if this was what she felt like the first time she realized she had deeper feelings for the redhead, but she could not yet recall that moment.

She turned her head to watch the dim light growing brighter, the washed out red light doing its best to peek through the blue curtains over the window and casting purple shadows into the room. There was too much to think about and Tara was having a hard time plucking just one thought out of the swirling mess in her mind. Would she go back to the other Sunnydale? While she _was _curious, despite her returning memories she thought of as home the hell dimension, not Buffy's Sunnydale.

Would Willow change her mind about staying and leave once she found a way out of this dimension? Would she follow the redhead? Should she tell Willow about the task entrusted to her by Eurynomus? Tara could not help but feel like she was deceiving the younger witch. Admittedly, she had not exactly been doing her job at all, not since she had purposely pulled the redhead's darkness through her as she attempted to remove the evil wind from the Slayer. The blonde still could not shake the feeling that it was _wrong_ not to tell Willow. Even if it were in her best interest. How would she react? Tara was not sure and that was reason enough to add it to the ever-growing pile of things to fret endlessly about.

Next to her, Willow sighed heavily in her sleep and detached her hand from the blonde's, throwing her arm around the taller woman's waist and pulling herself closer.

"Go back to sleep, baby." The redhead murmured softly against Tara's shoulder. "You worry too much."

The blue-eyed witch turned her head away from the window to find Willow's eyes still closed and darting back and forth beneath her eyelids, she was still asleep. Smiling slightly, Tara closed her eyes again, wrapped her arms around her torso, covering Willow's arms with her own, and quickly fell into a light sleep.

*

The thick morning air had not yet burned away and it closed off both sides of the street in a dense layer of white fog. Buffy sat in the middle of the street in front of Wyrd, feeling as if she were closed off from the rest of the world in a cocoon of earth bound clouds. The store behind her had not opened yet and she leaned back on her hands, hoping that Tara had a morning shift that day.

She perked up when she began to hear a jaunty tune being whistled somewhere to her right. A few seconds later, Maxwell stepped through the fog, swirling it around his legs as he too, was swallowed into the cocoon. He stopped whistling and shoved his hands in his coat pocket, looking for something.

"Buffy!" He said genially, pulling out a set of keys from his coat. "Fancy seeing you here so early. What can I do for you?"

The Slayer stood up and watched him jingle his keys around until he found the one he was looking for and he unlocked the door. "I'm actually looking for Tara." She replied, following him inside when he held the door open for her.

Buffy was not quite sure what to think of Maxwell. She figured that he was probably evil, but he could have been neutral, like Tara. He seemed kind enough, but then again, former Mayor Wilkins had seemed pretty nice too. The brunette seemed skittish around her though, and that made her suspicious. She sighed and leaned against a spot of blank wall between a large wooden plank labeled 'Arkasian Summoner Shield' and a shelf of blue glass bottles full of who knew what. Whether she was supicious or not, Maxwell was currently her only friend and the only one qualified enough to help her find a way home.

"Tara?" he asked, trying to sound uninterested. "Oh, I've given her a vacation." He smiled her way and popped open the register behind the counter. "She's been working far too hard. Anything I can help you with?"

Buffy tilted her head to the side and gave the question serious thought before pushing herself away from the wall and moving towards the counter. "Yeah, I think there might be something." She shoved her hands into her front pocket and closed her fingers around the Energumen Eye that was nestled in one of them.

*

"Thanks." Willow said, smiling as Tara handed her the cup of hot tea and sat down on the bench next to her. The sun had burned away the heavy fog that the redhead had woken up to and she could admire the little details of Tara's backyard garden that she had missed in the darkness of the previous night. The blonde had always been good at growing and caring for things, and the backyard showed it.

She sipped at the contents of her mug; she was not sure what type of tea it was, only that it was red and it tasted of earth. It was good though and it relaxed her tensed mind. Willow had been serious when she had asked for the blonde's help in ridding her of her fear of the darkness within and they had been doing small exercises most of the day.

The redhead had woken up before the blonde to find herself wrapped around the taller woman's torso. Grinning, she had gently extricated herself and laid her head on Tara's chest, content to count how many times the blonde's heart beat. After about thirty minutes, she poked Tara's side and the blue-eyed witch had giggled and squirmed underneath her.

"Why didn't you say anything, if you were awake?" the redhead had asked, not moving from her position.

The other woman had let out a sleepy chuckle and proceeded to run a hand through Willow's hair, a task that had quickly become one of her favorite things to do. "You seemed like you were concentrating on something." She had said, twirling a few strands around her index finger. Tara's voice echoed pleasantly in the ear Willow had pressed to the other woman's chest.

"I was just listening to your heart beat." The redhead had replied seriously, lifting herself up on her arms and kissing the blonde gently. She had missed waking up to Tara. She had pulled away before she could have gotten carried away by the moment and grinned down at the mock frown on the other woman's face from the loss of contact.

"Tease." Tara had mumbled good-naturedly as she pulled herself up into a sitting position, giving Willow a chaste kiss as she did so.

"Tara...." the redhead had started after having tucked her legs underneath her. She had been unsure of how to start, how to ask the question. "Last night…when you said that…that I wouldn't survive here if I were still _afraid_. Would you…I mean, did you mean what you said? About teaching me not to be afraid?" She looked down at her hands.

The blonde had smiled and brushed her hand down the redhead's arm. "Of course I meant it, or I wouldn't have said it. Why?"

When Willow had look up, her face had been full of determination. "Can we start now?"

And so the morning and half of the afternoon had been spent with Tara teaching the redhead ways to control her darkness rather thp[an cut it off completely. It was slow going, as Willow was far more afraid of her inner blackness than she cared to admit, but they had made a little progress. She had even been able to levitate a few rocks using only dark magic for five minutes before her hair had started to turn black and Tara had stopped the exercise, suggesting that they both needed a break.

She wondered why the coven in England had not taught her to cope with the darkness. After all, they had said it would always be a part of her, so why should she not learn to live with it? She was beginning to feel cheated, that the coven had _wanted_ her to continue being afraid, but why?

"I feel drained." Willow admitted, taking another sip of the hot liquid in her cup.

"Well, that means we're doing it right." Tara replied smiling and draining the rest of the tea she had been drinking rather quickly. "You won't always, once you can learn to feed off small parts of the darkness without letting it get a real hold on you, but you're doing well. You're a quick study."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't hurt to have a good teacher."

"Flatterer." The blonde smiled. "I'm going to go over to Wyrd. Maxwell's watching the store today and I know he's got some books that could help…but it's better if I talk to him about it alone, it could look suspicious."

Willow nodded.

"I'll be quick." Tara promised. "If…" she hesitated a second before taking a deep breath and shaking her head as if she were irritated with herself. "If you want, you can give me your room key and I'll get some of your stuff from the Amphora while I'm out." She said quickly, her face flushed with either a slight tinge of embarrassment or with the effort of saying the whole sentence in one breath.

Willow gave the blonde a lopsided grin and fished around in her back pocket, producing a slightly bent key card and handing the plastic rectangle over to her. "Should I practice while you're gone?"

Tara shook her head. "No; if you slip, I won't be here to catch you." She smiled slightly. "You need a break anyways. There're some towels in the hall closet near the kitchen and a robe on the back of bathroom door. Take a shower, take a nap and I'll be back before you know it."

They stood up and embraced, Tara planting a few soft kisses on Willow's lips before gathering their cups and disappearing through the patio door. The redhead sat back down on the rough stone bench, closed her eyes and tilted her face towards the sun. She could definitely get used to calling this dimension home.

*

"…Well that's…an interesting story." Maxwell mused, his chin in one hand. "That certainly explains how you and Willow seemed to pop up out of nowhere." He was really quite good at acting.

Buffy paced back and forth, still debating with herself if it had been such a good idea to tell the dimpled brunette so much. Even _if _he was an agent of Eurynomus, which she was beginning to doubt, what choice did she have? She needed to find a way home. She had not told him everything; she had left out the Energumen Eye, their connection to Tara and her job as a Slayer. Maxwell had not asked, but she had watched Willow mix stinky herbs into boiling pots enough to concoct a hopefully believable lie that she too, was a witch if she had to. She supposed she could always demonstrate her magical ass-kicking powers for proof.

"So you see my dilemma." Buffy whispered as a customer walked in and made their way to the back of the store. She glanced around suddenly, feeling as if someone else were there, but there was just the lone man in the back, sniffing at the contents of a purple leather pouch. Shrugging, she turned her attention back to the doe-eyed brunette.

Maxwell hummed his agreement and nodded but did not say anything until the customer left. "Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Anything you can. I know…I know I haven't really known you long enough to pull favors, but we need all the help we can get to get home."

The brunette nodded firmly. "Of course! I think I may have something back at my house."

"Great." Buffy heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Max. If we don't get out of this dimension soon, I'm going to kill Willow."

Behind them in the curtained off room and out of sight, was Tara, who had come in through the back door which opened up into her small den. Her hands were clenched at her sides and her face was burning with anger. She turned on her heel and slipped quietly out of Wyrd. Not even Eurynomus would be able to save Maxwell if he ended up actually helping the Slayer.


	19. Being Prepared

The day had taxed Willow heavily and she was completely exhausted by the time the sun started to sink below the horizon. Tara had returned empty handed, saying that Maxwell did not have what they needed and they had started in on her lessons again. The fervor with which Tara had restarted her lessons unsettled the redhead; something was clearly bothering her. They were eating dinner at the kitchen counter in silence, the blonde had a deep furrow on her forehead as she pushed her food around her plate and Willow watched her from beneath her eyelashes, wondering what had happened.

"Tara…?" the redhead started hesitantly, lifting her head to look at the other woman properly.

Tara had not heard her. Her lips were moving but no sound slipped between them as she mumbled to herself, pushing a tomato through her salad with purpose. She looked a million miles away as she shook her head slightly as if to berate herself for a stupid idea and began to gnaw on her lower lip.

Willow sucked in a nervous breath and reached across the space between them to still Tara's hand. Startled, the blonde dropped her fork and it clattered onto her plate and bounced onto the countertop.

"Wha?" Tara vocalized, looking at the fork as if she had not known it had been in her hand. She turned her puzzled gaze back to Willow who regarded her with concern.

"Tara…" the younger Wicca started again; compelled for some reason, to keep her voice low. "Are…are you all right? I mean…i-if you changed your mind, you know…about letting me stay here you could have just…"

"Wait, what?" Tara interrupted, shaking her head to get rid of her daze and fully joining the world around her. "Where did you get that idea?"

Willow shrugged and took a breath before replying. "It's…it's just that when you came back…it didn't seem like you went to the Amphora at all…" she tapped her foot nervously. "Not that you had to, or anything! I mean…I just thought that…well I guess I thought…a-and when we started the lessons again I-I felt like it was too much all at once and I _really_ do want to learn but I can't…I'm not…this is hard for me…"

Tara took the babbling redhead's hands in her own and mentally chastised herself for forgetting about going to the hotel. Willow's safety was more important to her than anything and her only thought was to get back to the house and prepare her. She figured Maxwell was possibly misleading the Slayer, but the rugged brunette was a servant of the Bringer of Chaos and as such, his motives had to be questioned at all times.

"Hey," she started gently once Willow had trailed off into silence. "I just…I saw Buffy at Wyrd and I heard her talking to Max…I got kinda wigged out and left." She offered the hacker a sincere smile. "I didn't mean to worry you, I'm sorry."

Willow let out bated breath and she seemed to relax a moment before she looked up suddenly. "Maxwell and Buffy? What would they have to talk about?" Part of her hoped that she had told Maxwell enough for him to help her find a way back to her own dimension and part of her dreaded the thought for some reason. She inwardly bristled her resolve and reminded herself that she had no obligation to Buffy beyond getting the blonde home.

"I went in through the back and only caught the tail end of it." Tara replied, her frown returning. "She wants him to help her get the three of us back to the other Sunnydale. She said she might…do something to you, if you don't leave and after that, I left. I didn't mean to overwork you…I just…I want to be prepared. You said Buffy was the Slayer, I don't know what she's capable of…but she said she might…_hurt_ you if we don't leave with her."

Willow contemplated the information, her own frown starting to form. Would Buffy really force her to go back? Honestly, the redhead would not have put it past her, but why? She unconsciously clenched a fist and shook her head, looking up at Tara.

"So she thinks it's a great idea to ask Maxwell for help when I _already_ told her about him?" she asked rhetorically. "After everything I've done for her and helped her with, she couldn't trust me on _one_ thing?" Willow shook her head disgustedly. She had thought that maybe she had been a little hard on Buffy in their earlier argument, but she saw now that she had been right all along. "We're not going anywhere with her, Tara." She said firmly.

Buffy always thought she knew what was best for everyone and Willow would not tolerate that anymore. "Just because she's the Slayer doesn't mean that she can force people into making _her_ feel less guilty." The redhead mumbled, frowning slightly. What would Buffy do to her if she did not leave? Why couldn't the petite blonde just leave well enough alone? Buffy never knew when to stop, so Willow decided that she would have to teach her.

When she looked up, Tara was regarding her thoughtfully. Finally, the blonde nodded her head once as if some decision had been reached and she said firmly: "I'm _not_ going to let the Slayer hurt you."

The redhead nodded back, believing her. She could tell that whatever Tara had heard at Wyrd had probably been less vague than she had made it seem. Part of her did not want to know what Buffy had really said, but the way Tara had supplied the word 'hurt' had told her enough. She did not want to ask and confirm her thoughts. Regardless of what she had said to the small blonde, they had once been best friends; almost like sisters, and Willow could not help but feel betrayed.

Tara stood up suddenly and took her keys from a ceramic turtle-shaped bowl on the corner of the counter; sighing, she rested a hand on the younger Wiccas shoulder. "I'm going to the Amphora to pick up your things." She supplied when the redhead had looked up questioningly.

The blonde shook her head and gently pressed her hand down on the hacker's shoulder as she tried to get out of her chair. "She might be at the hotel…" Tara continued, palming the redhead's cheek. "I think it would be better if you stayed away from her right now…at least until you get a little more control."

Willow nodded and stared distastefully down at her hands. She felt helpless, but Tara was right. If she got into another fight with Buffy and she lost control…she shuddered at the thought. It was better to stay here. For now. Still, if Buffy was willing to use force on her, what about Tara? She looked up in order to voice her concern, but the blonde pressed their lips together before she could get the first syllable out.

"I'll be careful." Tara promised. "She doesn't know I was in the shop. She might be at Maxwell's anyway." She shook her head bemusedly as if she could not quite believe her own assessment.

They stared at each other for a few moments before Willow smiled, nodded, and watched the blonde sweep gracefully out of the house.

"I love you." She said to the closed door once she heard the blonde's car start.

*

There was only one clerk behind the front desk when Tara made her way into the marbled lounge of the Amphora. She was a chubby but cute middle aged woman with a halo of bushy brown hair framing her plump face spattered with freckles. When she spotted Tara, she smoothed down her hair and ceased the click-clack cadence of drumming her bright purple nails against the front counter.

The blonde wrinkled her nose disgustedly, recognizing the woman as one of her less frequent clients. She knew for a fact that the bespectacled brunette used at least four other dealers besides herself. Tara supposed that the woman did not want people to know she was a junkie and if the blonde had not been a dealer, she would have thought that the brunette was doing a fantastic job.

The makeup around her eyes was a little too heavy, doing little to belie the fact that there were dark veins underneath. The longing expression on the woman's face gave her away as well. Tara was partially disgusted. She made her livelihood sapping the energies of other people, giving them what they craved in return. It paid well, but to her, clients had become nothing more than hollow shells where a person once resided. Once a junkie, they were neither demon, nor human. They stunk of living purgatory.

Thankful that she had Willow's key, she stuck her hand into her pocket to comfort herself and groaned inwardly when she was met with nothing but loose change and pocket lint. She tried her other pockets and found more of the same. She must have left the key card on the kitchen counter. Cursing under her breath, she made a beeline for the front desk.

"Hey, stranger." The brunette said in what was supposed to be her seductive voice.

Tara made no effort at hiding the fact that she had forgotten the woman's name and peered at the shiny golden nametag. "Erica." She replied aloud, almost positive that she had not known the woman's name until that point.

Erica batted her eyelashes and leaned forward. "What brings you here, business or pleasure?"

The blonde bit the inside of her cheek, annoyed. "Give me the key to Willow Rosenburg's room." She demanded instead, ignoring the previous question.

Erica's eyebrows rose. "That pretty little thing Max has been going on about?"

Tara could place Erica now. She hung around Maxwell's ever expanding fan club in hopes of getting a taste of Eurynomus' power. The plump woman had frequented Jirel's until the dimwitted demon found out she had been going to Tara as well. Jirel had a strict "me and only me" policy with his clients at his father's insistence. The blonde witch had not seen Erica in a few weeks and found herself wondering where she had been getting her fixes. Judging from the way the brunette was fidgeting and trying to maneuver herself to look more pleasing, Tara figured it had been a while.

"What has Max been saying?" she asked carefully in response.

Erica grinned, her cheeks flushing with her own importance. "Well, he's been telling everyone to leave her be, you know? No one's allowed to even look at her the wrong way, through I dunno why they would."

Tara grimaced. Erica was not interested in women, but she was interested in what Tara could give her, so she played the part she thought would get her what she wanted. It made the blonde's head hurt.

"Word is," the brunette continued, not quite oblivious to Tara's reaction. "If anything happens to her, Max'll use their skull for an ashtray."

The tall witch resisted the urge to scoff. Eurynomus had probably told Maxwell the same thing would happen to him. She still knew better than to trust him and he had more than likely spread the rumors for his own amusement. Tara nodded as if she had heard that information already and Erica's self-important glow dimmed.

"So are you supposed to be her personal dealer, or are you still taking on other business?" The woman behind the counter asked casually, her thick fingers ticking away at the keyboard in front of her.

Tara lifted one side of her mouth into a half-amused smile. "Personal." She replied, daring the brunette to say something else. Unfortunately, she did not disappoint.

"Come on, Tara…" Erica said, suddenly looking very tired. "Jirel won't let me at his place…not after he found out I'd been going to you. That tusked bastard sure is specific. I got money."

"I'm not interested." She replied carefully, her voice even. "Give me the key to Willow's room."

Erica looked around the lobby for a moment before bursting out into a small fit of giggles. "No one's watching you here…As far as I know, that woman hasn't been here for a few days."

"There are other dealers you can go to."

"Yeah, but none with your…" She stared dreamily at Tara for a moment. "Expertise. Come on, doll, I won't tell if you won't.

"Mind your mouth." The blonde hissed, causing Erica to lean backwards suddenly. Oh how Tara hated junkies, especially ones that could not realize when they were in danger. "If you _ever_ call me that again, _I'll_ use your skull for an ashtray. Give me the key to Willow's room."

The brunette blanched and even her freckles looked like they had turned a shade or two lighter. She nodded and typed something else into the computer before reaching into a drawer and handing Tara a master key card. "She's in room 405, Miss Maclay."

The blonde nodded and thought about saying, or doing something else, but from the looks of the other woman, she really had not been to a dealer in a while. She was too proud to go to anyone other than herself or Jirel and had probably been bounced by every other prominent dealer in the city based on the way she was throwing herself at Tara. She would not need to do anything else. Erica would probably be dead by next week if she could not find another fix, but that was not Tara's problem. She took the key and turned on her heel to make her way to the elevators. She did not turn around again, but she could feel Erica's pathetic gaze boring pleading holes into her back.


	20. Changing Hands

"I really can't thank you enough for helping me with all of this." Buffy said, pushing back some loose strands of hair to get a better look at Maxwell. He had been right about having some books about the subject at his house. The large library in what more or less amounted to a mansion had at least a hundred books on inter-dimensional travel. So far, nothing useful had been found, but they had only been at it an hour or so.

Buffy still was not sure how she felt about the brown haired man. He seemed eager to help them, maybe eager to get them out of his world. The Slayer shook her head and chastised herself for being so paranoid. If he were truly evil, why would he want to help her in the first place? No, he had been nothing but pleasant and accommodating since she had met him. She resolved to stop thinking ill of him.

"Think nothing of it." He replied, his cheeks dimpling as he smiled at her from across the large wooden table they sat at. "If I were ever stranded by a spell gone wrong, I would hope someone would have the decency to get me home."

Buffy smiled and bobbed her head in agreement, flipping through the book in front of her. She was trying to focus on finding a way back. Persuading Willow and Tara to go with her would be another matter entirely. She knew for sure that she had _really_ put her foot in her mouth and would be lucky if Willow even spoke one word to her. Perhaps it was for the better though, if the hacker was still angry, she would stay away from her, making Buffy less likely to kill her.

Across the table, Maxwell pretended to peruse a book that was proving to be particularly useful to the blonde's situation. He made a mental note to get rid of the book after his companion left. Buffy's story intrigued him. Of course, he knew more than she thought he did, but it was clear that he was lacking some things and had the sinking feeling that it had something to do with Tara.

He tried to ignore the pang in his chest at the thought of the tall blonde. Eurynomus had reminded him that Tara was completely off limits on pain of death. And if there were two things that the pale prince was good at, it was pain and death. Even so, Maxwell was still, to his regret, human and his heart wanted Tara. He had seen the two women around town, Willow and Tara, hand in hand no less. Maxwell had never seen the blonde so relaxed in all the years he had known her. He was jealous.

The brunette had done everything in his power to get her to notice him. When she was gaining a name for herself as a dealer, he had brought her high profile clients. He had sent her on special missions and had even sung her praises to Eurynomus. Maxwell was sure that she knew of his affection, though he had never directly spoken it out loud. With other women, there had never been the need to, but with the Queen about to ascend, there would be no room for him. He was angry as well, but what could he do against Willow? Eurynomus had told him of the redhead's time as a demon and the brunette had wisely decided to never go between Tara and the Queen. Not directly, at any rate.

Providence had been smiling on him when Buffy had presented her 'issue' to him. If he could find a way to get Buffy and Willow back to their own dimension without anyone suspecting him, he was just _sure_ the pieces would fall into place after that. From what Buffy had told him, the Fates had been exceedingly vague about how or when Buffy was to kill the redhead. In Maxwell's experience, vague information from a Higher Power was very much like vague information from a Lower Power: the outcome could not be changed, rendering the details unimportant.

Buffy seemed convinced that if they could find a way back to their own dimension in time, she could avoid Destiny, but Maxwell knew better. Perhaps, if he stalled long enough, Buffy would kill Willow sooner rather than later. He frowned. That would take care of Willow, but then he would still have to deal with the petite blonde across from him. Whatever he did, he could not let Buffy find a way back. In her explanation, she had implied that Tara was to go with her as well, perhaps as a replacement witch in case she did indeed kill Willow. It was one thing to lose the queen before the ascension; they would be no better off than before. Maxwell would not, could not let the Slayer take the blonde witch. If they could get the darkness to truly take hold of Tara, she may even be able to ascend herself.

He peered at Buffy curiously over his book. She was engrossed in the text before her, her lips moving silently as she read. She _was_ small. Maxwell could scarcely believe that she was the _Slayer_. Regardless, he needed a plan. If anything happened to Willow, Buffy would be the very least of his problems. Tara seemed quite protective of her, which would pose as an issue when the time came. Maxwell was certain he was stronger than Tara physically, but he was almost no match for her magically unless he could disable her ability to defend herself.

Then there was Eurynomus. His master had supplied him with a list of horrendous bodily harm that would come to him, should anything happen to the Queen before her ascension. That was why the alabaster prince had sent him to latch so fully onto Buffy, to keep her distracted. Eurynomus did not want to engage the Slayer before the ascension, if it could be helped. Maxwell was beginning to think that it would be better for him if he could get them to fight before Buffy found a way back to her own dimension and before Willow became queen.

If he could maneuver himself carefully, everything would work out in his favor. He had learned manipulation from Eurynomus himself, so he was quite adept at it but he would still have to be careful. If he knew anything about his master, it was that he made good on promises of torture. He was hoping he could find a way for the darkness to take hold of Tara rather than just channeling through her. The blonde had been considered, once they had found that Willow was desperately trying to repress her darker side and doing a good job of it so he knew Tara had the potential. Eurynomus would not care, as long as someone was on the throne

Buffy snapped him out of his thoughts as she frustratedly dropped the book in her lap onto the table with a loud clap. "Nothing in here, either." She sighed, rubbing her temples gingerly.

Maxwell nodded and put on his best sympathetic face. "Perhaps it's best if we call it a night? You look beat."

The blonde chuckled. She _felt_ beat. Gathering her coat and a few books Maxwell handed to her, she thanked him again, declined the offer for a ride, and left his ostentatious house alone.

*

Tara surveyed the room one last time to make sure she had gotten everything. She felt as if she were forgetting something and had spent the last five minutes making sure she had gathered all of Willow's things. The room was empty and the duffle bag at her feet was full, so she shook off the nagging feeling, slung the bag over her shoulder and set about getting out of there.

As she was slipping the key card into her pocket, the elevator doors down the hall pinged merrily and the Slayer stepped from between them, her arms full of books. Tara gritted her teeth and forced a small smile she hoped did not come off as a snarl. It must have had its desired affect as the smaller blonde returned a smile and all but jogged over to her. Once Buffy was standing in front of her, the Slayer seemed to not know how to start and her mouth opened and closed a few times.

"Hey." She said finally, cringing at herself.

"Hi." Tara replied, wondering why it had not occurred to her until it was too late to search Buffy's room for the Energumen Eye.

"Where's…is Willow with you?" she asked, peering around the hallway.

Tara shook her head; she wondered how the Slayer could seem so casual. She clenched her jaw to keep from asking.

"I um…" the smaller woman started again. "I was looking for you this morning."

_"I bet." _Tara thought sarcastically.

Buffy seemed to notice the duffle bag for the first time and shot a morose glance at Willow's closed door. "I wanted…I needed to talk to you about…some stuff. Can you stay for a minute?"

The blonde witch considered the question carefully, trying to determine if Buffy was an immediate threat. Something in the Slayer's face seemed trustworthy and she still needed the Energumen Eye so she nodded and watched her unlock the door, holding it open for both of them. Once inside, Buffy tossed the books onto the bed, trying not to make a show of spreading them out so Tara could see the titles.

Tara did as was expected and glanced over at the books; they were volumes from Maxwell's library about inter-dimensional travel. She recognized them and none of them would be very useful which made a better case for the dimpled brunet.

"Tara…" Buffy started, frowning with concentration. "I…I don't know how much Willow told you, but there's some things that I need to tell you about me…and Willow…about you, that you should know."

"I already know." She replied simply. Buffy's concerned tone irritated her. The Slayer was a good actress at least.

Buffy let out a mouthful of air, sounding for all the world like an inflated balloon that had been let go. "You already know?" she repeated, her tone disbelieving.

"About your…our Sunnydale, yeah. Willow told me everything."

"Everything?"

Tara shifted her weight uncomfortably and crossed her arms over her chest. Apparently, her reaction relayed enough as Buffy spoke again.

"I need your help."

The blonde witch was quite proud of herself for keeping the sneer off her face. "With what?" she asked innocently.

Buffy sat down on the edge of the bed heavily, looking weary. "I know you don't…remember anything, even if Willow's told you everything."

Tara gave herself another mental pat on the back for not smirking and sat down in an uncomfortably overstuffed chair near a window when it appeared the Slayer was going to launch into a long explanation.

"You haven't noticed…you couldn't have, but Willow's different…Something's happening to her, changing her, and I'm not sure it's a good thing. We have to find a way out of here, we have to get back home."

"Different?" Tara pondered, mulling the word over in her head. She smiled. "Different isn't always bad."

Buffy opened her mouth to protest before realizing that she would be implying that there was something wrong with Tara as well. The last thing she wanted to do was insult the only person that could help her get through to the redhead. The Slayer instead, nodded slowly, choosing her words. "I'm worried about her…about what's going to happen to her if we don't leave soon."

The smaller blonde stalled, sticking her hand into her pocket and pulling out a green stone on a silver necklace, not noticing that the woman across from her tensed up momentarily. Buffy stretched out her arm and handed the chain to Tara, letting her look it over before she continued.

"Do you know what that is?" the Slayer queried, watching the witch turn the object over in her palm.

"No." Tara lied.

"It's…it's called a Demon Link. I think it's the reason why we're still here, why we weren't sent back after Willow found you."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked a tad breathlessly, not taking her eyes off the small stone. She repressed a shiver as darkness seeped through the gem and into her hands. Once Willow had the Energumen Eye, there would be no stopping her. The redhead was exceedingly powerful in her own right, but with the tiny augmentation in her hand, she would even be a match for The First. She quelled the urge to keep examining it and lifted her gaze to the small woman on the bed.

Buffy looked down at her hands in contemplation. "I know there isn't a chance that Willow would talk to me right now." She began quietly. "And I've told Max a little, but not about you and not about the Demon Link. I need you to help me figure out what it's really for and if it's keeping us here or can help us get home."

Tara wanted to laugh, but she pressed her lips together tightly and nodded. "I'll do as much research as I can." She replied, standing up and putting the necklace in her pocket.

The Slayer seemed to relax a bit, her shoulder losing some of the tension she had been carrying. "We have to keep the Demon Link between ourselves. I'm not sure what it really does, but I don't think it's good."

Tara nodded her understanding and forced herself not to skip to the door.

"Tara?"

The witch stopped with her hand on the knob and turned around to acknowledge Buffy's hopeful face.

"Thank you." She said, looking like she wanted to hug the taller woman.

Tara nodded and slipped out of the room, leaving Buffy to her books, the Energumen Eye firmly lodged in her pocket and a smile on her face.


	21. The Demon Link

"You're a quick learner." Tara heaved, bending over to rest her hands on her knees and catch her breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Willow grinning triumphantly at her, a small ball of purple energy crackling in her open palm.

"Either that, or you're just taking it easy on me." The redhead replied, snapping her hand shut, which caused the energy to disappear.

The blonde smiled and righted herself, wiping the light sweat from her forehead and crossing her back lawn to where Willow was leaning against an ivy covered fence, a smug smile on her face. She was clearly aware that Tara had not gone easy on her. The blonde returned the grin she was being given and leaned against the fence in front of the redhead, her hands planted firmly on either side of the shorter woman's head.

"Are you mocking me and my teaching methods?" she asked, dropping her hands to Willow's shoulders. She could see the darkness still swirling within the green eyes in front of her, but Willow was the one in control of it; she was indeed a very quick learner.

"Maybe I'm just trying to make you feel better about losing?" Came the reply as the redhead smiled sweetly up at her, hooking her arms around Tara's neck and bringing their faces closer. "Especially after it looked like you'd been trying _so_ hard."

The blonde chuckled and shook her head. Willow had been right, she had been trying hard to tire her out. Since they had first started training with black magic two weeks ago, the redhead had gotten better and surpassed her quickly. She had expected it to be easy, but had not expected it to be so easy. Bumping her forehead lightly against Willow's, she placed a light kiss on one of the redhead's cheeks, eliciting a pout as the blonde pushed herself off the fence. She stretched her arms up to the powder blue sky overhead and contemplated her surroundings.

The sinking sun cast a golden halo of light around the backyard, illuminating the half of Willow's face that was not shaded by the creeping ivy that held tenaciously onto the fence. Tara took a moment to admire the contrast of the redhead's hair to the leaves before taking her by the hand and pulling her gently forward.

"I have something for you." She said, leading the other woman into the house.

"I like presents!" Willow replied merrily, wiping her bare feet on a mat outside the door before following Tara into the bedroom. She sat herself on the middle of the bed and watched as the blonde took a small jewelry box from off the nightstand and crawled onto the mattress, setting the box between them and resting a hand on the dark wooden lid.

"When I went to the Amphora last," Tara began after a moment. "I saw Buffy."

"Did you?" the hacker asked disinterestedly. They had not spoken about the Slayer other than an occasional comment about helping her find a way to get back to her dimension.

"She wanted me to help her."

"Help her with what, wrangling me back to _her_ Sunnydale?"

"There was that…"

Willow made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat and crossed her arms over her chest bitterly. She could not wait until they could send Buffy back, it would be better for everyone. She looked up from the space between them when Tara sucked in a breath.

"Do you remember when you were telling me about what had happened before you got here?"

The redhead nodded.

"Well…it seems like there's more to it than just being in a dimension Eurynomus rules." She lifted the lid of the box and took out the Energumen Eye. "Buffy had this with her. She told me to keep it from you…she thinks it's what's keeping us here."

Tara watched as a look of horror crossed the redhead's features briefly before Willow shook her head, seemingly amused at her reaction and her mouth turned up into a small smile as she reached out and took the necklace. The blonde had purposely waited before giving the Demon Link to her girlfriend. She figured that she would have had no problem getting Willow to wear the necklace immediately, but something inside her held her back until she was sure that Willow would be able to control the darkness inside her. Eurynomus would not be pleased, but she had no plans on telling him and once the redhead across from her ascended to the throne of Hell, that would not be a problem.

Willow lowered the necklace and dropped it gently on the bed before looking up at Tara curiously. "What do _you_ think?"

Tara could have lied. She knew whatever she was going to say would influence whether or not Willow would accept the Energumen Eye, but it was the truth that spilled through her lips. "I don't think it's keeping us here, but we're supposed to be here. I don't…I don't think Buffy wants you to have it, though…but it seems important."

Willow nodded, a look of deep contemplation crossing her features. "I think you're right." She said quietly, picking up the necklace again. "I think it's important too…I feel like…" She carefully unhooked the clasp. "Like I'm _supposed_ to have this. That I need it, for…something. That _we_ need it." She held the opened necklace out to Tara and once the necklace was out of her hands, shifted around on the bed so that her back was facing the blonde.

Tara smiled gently and put the necklace around Willow's neck, moving the hacker's hair out of the way once the clasp was re-hooked. She snaked her arms around the redhead's waist and pulled her close, resting her chin on the smaller witch's shoulder. "How does it feel?" she murmured, already knowing the answer as she felt Willow's body thrum with magic.

"Good." The redhead whispered after swallowing hard. Her eyes were closed and she felt grateful she was sitting down as she was sure she was about to swoon. Willow was suddenly thankful for everything Tara had been teaching her. She could feel the darkness reaching its fingers through her, seeping through her every cell and yet, she was still holding it together. She was still Willow. She turned in the blonde's arms and opened her eyes, surprised that she could see Tara's aura clearly. White light clung desperately to the blonde's frame and a halo of darkness sat on top of it, separated as if it were water and oil. The redhead smiled, she could fix that.

Tara watched silently as Willow stared at her in fascination and she wondered what the redhead was seeing. She looked down at the narrow space between them, sure that the younger witch was seeing her defect, seeing that she could not harness the darkness the same way others could, the same way Willow could. She opened her mouth to try to explain herself, but the hacker silenced her by pressing her index finger to Tara's lips.

"We can fix it." The redhead breathed, taking her hand away to caress the air around the blonde's face.

Until that point, Tara had not known that it was possible for a person to touch the aura of someone else. She tried to keep herself focused on the redhead, but her eyes rolled backwards slightly of their own volition, obscuring her vision for a split second. When she regained clarity, she felt freezing and Willow had a small white ball of energy in her hand.

"What is that?" the blonde asked, her teeth chattering.

"You." The hacker replied, covering the energy with her other hand and looking up. She smiled lazily. "Well, part of you." When she uncovered her hand, the energy was a mottled shade of grey. Willow uncurled and splayed her fingers, causing the energy to float towards the blonde where it disappeared into her chest.

The cold feeling left Tara immediately and was replaced with a newfound sense of power. She looked down at her hands, feeling the small part of darkness integrate with her aura. When the blonde looked up again, the grin on her face matched Willow's and the redhead took her hands, pulling her closer.

"I think this is my Destiny." Willow whispered against Tara's lips before kissing her softly. She vaguely registered the jewelry box clattering to the floor and spilling assorted bracelets and earrings onto the carpet as she pulled herself onto Tara's lap.

"What is?" the blonde asked, breathing in sharply when teeth nipped at the skin on her neck.

"You." She tugged lightly on the Energumen Eye around her neck. "This…us." Willow pushed the blonde's shoulders backwards and her smile widened. "This is where we're meant to be, I know it now. This isn't Eurynomus' dimension, it's _mine_ and he was borrowing it from me. We're going to get it back from him, okay?"

Tara nodded dumbly as she felt the soft scrape of fingernails on her stomach. Looking into the dilated green eyes boring into her own, she could tell that it was not the necklace talking. The energy from the necklace may have spurred the thought, but the words belonged to Willow, she was in control. "Wh-wh-what…" Tara swallowed thickly, trying to concentrate, which was growing more difficult by the second. "What about Buffy?"

The redhead stopped moving her hands and sat up on Tara's hips, tilting her head thoughtfully. "We'll have to send her back." She replied after a moment, resuming her exploration. "I can't now, but soon…Eurynomus will show me. You know him, don't you?"

Tara nodded mutely, her eyes wide, but Willow did not seem upset.

"I figured you might, since you know Max so well." She gripped Tara's wrists and pinned them above her head. "Will you take me to Eurynomus?"

The blonde nodded again, trying desperately to keep her eyes open. She thought she might have vocalized a 'yes' but could not be quite sure. Above her, Willow grinned wickedly and bent down to kiss her.

*

Buffy glared at herself in the bathroom mirror, the fluorescent lights highlighting every imperfection on her face. She thought she looked horrible. Her eyes held dark circles underneath them from lack of sleep and her skin looked washed out and sick. She had not heard from Tara since giving her the necklace and although she wanted to believe that the object may have slipped the witch's mind, she had been Slayer long enough to know something was amiss.

She stared at the water rushing out of the faucet, wondering when she had turned the tap on. Shrugging slightly to herself, she cupped her hands and splashed the cold water onto her face, hoping she would feel more awake. She wished Willow were there. She had nearly forgotten how comforting her friend could be, even with the awkwardness between them, just the fact that the redhead was near was sometimes enough information to put her at ease.

Shutting off the tap, Buffy sank to the floor and slumped against the wall; she had really screwed up this time. Maxwell was exceedingly evasive whenever she tried to find out where Tara lived, he was keeping her from them on purpose. Perhaps it had been stupid to ask for his help, she was sure now that blowing up at Willow had been the worst idea she had had so far. Dropping her wet face onto her hands, she pulled her knees up to her chest and allowed herself to squeeze out a few tears, if only to try and ease the uncomfortable knot of sorrow and impending doom in her chest.

Stopping herself before she started crying, Buffy sniffed a few times and numbly reached up to pull a hand towel off the marbled countertop and wiped her face. She had found nothing useful in terms of getting home. Every time she had thought she found a lead, it would meander into a dead end and she was beginning to let her despair affect her. Groaning tiredly as she pulled herself off the floor, Buffy straightened her slumped shoulders and began to pace.

It was obvious that she was not going to find a way home any time soon. For the four nights, she had been having dreams about an evil Willow and they had not been just a worried subconscious sorting out her fears, they had been Slayer dreams. She pivoted on her heel as she completed her circuit around the alcove next to the bathroom and continued around, rubbing her temples in an effort to induce thought. There had to have been something to the dreams if they were Slayer dreams.

Buffy hummed aloud to herself, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. In her dreams, Willow had been wearing the necklace, but it felt more like the necklace had been wearing her. Instead of the redhead being filled with grief, she had been filled with something else, unadulterated evil. Dream Willow had been sucking the darkness out of things in the dimension, leaving only bleached husks behind her and causing the gem on the necklace to grow darker with every ounce of evil she took in. In her last dream, Willow had taken the darkness away from Tara and it may have killed the blonde, she was not sure. Afterward, the gem had become opaque and so black, Buffy was not sure it could have been accurately described as a color.

Stopping in her tracks, the blonde had an epiphany. The necklace. She had to figure out a way to destroy it before Willow started taking energy, before the Demon Link started to control her best friend. She had to do it alone, it would be too risky to tell Maxwell about it and she had no idea where to find Tara to try to talk sense into the other woman. Buffy had to save Willow, she had to save all of them. It was not just because she was the Slayer, but she would never forgive herself if anything happened to either Tara or Willow, but especially Willow. Facing the mirror again, she gave her reflection a small smile and flipped off the harsh light. She had to believe that she was not too late.

*

When Buffy got into Wyrd, it was late afternoon and Amy was sitting behind the counter, idly flipping through a tabloid and occasionally glaring at the few customers browsing the shelves. The brunette looked up briefly as the blonde breezed into the shop and headed for the upstairs section.

"Do you want me to call Max in?" she called, thumbing through an article called _Rumor or Fact: Hell Will Have a New Queen?_ She knew that Buffy and Maxwell had been spending an awful lot of time together, pouring over books. She was not sure what they were looking for, but she knew that if she were the one spending that much time with him, it sure would not be for reading.

"No." Came the call from the balcony. "Don't bother him; I'll only be a minute."

Amy shrugged and stifled a yawn; it did not matter to her. Buffy was on odd girl, sweet, but odd. There was something about the small blonde that made her want to stay on her good side.

Upstairs, Buffy had settled into a corner after pulling out every book on the nearest shelf that had Eurynomus' name or the word energumen on it. The first book she opened had been written in Latin, so it was quickly discarded. She could have really used Willow's help. The next was a dark purple book, almost velvety to the touch but Buffy recognized the binding for what it was, some kind of skin. Shrugging off her queasy feeling, she opened it near the middle and her face lit up with the first involuntary smile she had had in weeks.

_"It is not known exactly when it was that Lord Eurynomus first procured the Demon Link." _Buffy read, her fingers tracing along the handwritten lines. _"But it is known that it was the last material object The First made Himself. The Energumen Eye had always been intended for use by the Queen of Hell, and She is the only one with the ability to channel its power without coming to a most painful demise." _

"Queen of Hell?" the Slayer whispered curiously to herself. She stuck a finger on the page she was reading from and scanned the next few chapters for any reference to a Queen of Hell.

_"Since the beginning, there has only been one born: One girl in all the dimensions, a chosen one. She alone wields the strength and skill to fight the forces of Light, to stop the spread of their goodness and the swell of their numbers. She is the Queen of Hell."_

"_Geeze." _ Buffy thought, checking the front of the book briefly for an author, of which there was none. _"It's like evil-Giles wrote this."_ She continued reading:

"_The Queen is the most powerful force of darkness available to The First. Some say that she is even more powerful than the Great Master, which is why limitations must be placed on her abilities. The creation of the Demon Link preceded the creation of Her Dark Majesty. Fearing His might challenged, The First created the Energumen Eye not only as a means to find the Queen, but as a way to control her as well. If left unchecked, the Queen would easily defeat the Great Master, should her desire for power grow too great. _

"_The Demon Link is forever drawn to the essence of the Queen and once it is in her possession, she will become all-powerful for a short period of time before the energy of The First is activated within the gem of the Energumen Eye. It drives Her Majesty to seek out more power, to feed herself and to feed the gem. Once the stone turns obsidian in color, she is lost to the will of the Great Master. No longer will she be her own, but a puppet, a tool of The First to wield and use as He likes. It is only through the loss of her free will that the Queen can become invincible."_

Buffy was not pleased with the new information. She flipped back to where she had began and continued to read, thinking briefly that Giles would have been proud that she was doing research on her own. Smiling ruefully, she continued, her eyes scanning each page for the word 'destroy.'

"_Once full ascension is attained, there is no way to stop the Queen. The Demon Link will render her immortal, an eternal force of Darkness and forever a slave to the wills and whims of the Great Master. The Eye is designed in such a way that the Queen will not perceive its actual purpose until it is too late. The only known way to destroy the Demon Link is to destroy the Queen before the ascension is completed. _

"_The first Queen was regrettably defeated by the First Slayer. Queen Lilith has long been regulated to the myth and legend category of human existence. It is said that we will come to an age in which a new Queen will be born and she will be exponentially more powerful than the first Queen. One can only hope that it will happen in our lifetime."_

The text went on, extolling the supposed virtues of The First in creating the Queen of Hell, but Buffy had seen enough. Bile rose to the back of her throat and she pushed it back, swallowing sickly. The Fates had been right. Unless she could stop Willow from putting on the Demon Link she would have to kill the redhead. Pushing the book away from her disgustedly, she hurried out of Wyrd, ignoring the stares she drew after her.


	22. Pushed Over the Edge

Finding Eurynomus had not been difficult. The Demon Link augmented Willow's abilities quickly enough for her to do an accurate tracking spell. The information had led them to Jirel's, which was no surprise to Tara. Even in the daytime, the alleyway that held the half-demon's den looked seedy. The bare bulb over the door was still on, signaling that Jirel was inside. Willow stood next to her, taking deep breaths and looking around the narrow alley interestedly.

"It's better on the inside." Tara reassured, pounding on the metal door and causing a few green flakes of paint to lose their tenuous grasp on the door.

The redhead smiled lopsidedly and took Tara's hand as the blonde took a step back. "It's not that." She reassured. "There's just…" she tilted her head, searching for the right words. "A lot of power here."

The small rectangular inset on the door slid open before Tara had a chance to respond and Recka's scarlet gaze became visible. "Maclay!" the dark demon grumbled. "Can't I get you to stay away from here? You're bad for business, blondie." He squinted for a moment, just registering that there was someone else with her. His eyes grew wide and the portal slammed shut, the door swinging open almost as quickly.

"Welcome to Jirel's!" the hulking demon said once the door was open. "You must be Miss Rosenburg." He continued, addressing Willow who nodded in response. He hunched his frame over in an attempt at a regal bow.

Tara did little to hide her amusement as they slipped past him and up the stairs. Even in the middle of the day, the den was crowded. A collection of demons and humans mingled around the expanse of the lounge like area, the doors to the private rooms on the side opened and closed with incoming and outgoing business. It was orchestrated chaos. Only the few with enough money would get to have their fix from Jirel himself and the demi-demon was leaning against the wet bar on the other side of the room, engaging himself in what appeared to be lively conversation with a few patrons. Spotting them, his head perked up and he excused himself from his company and strode over to them.

"What's _she_ doing here?" He started, a tilt of his head indicating that he was speaking about Tara.

"Forgive him." Recka said instead, wringing his hands slightly and looking at Willow. "The boy's been good side and it's made him a little stupid." He growled slightly at Jirel who opened his mouth to protest, but his father cut him off. "Jirel, _this_ is the woman Lord Eurynomus and Master Maxwell has been telling us about. Show the proper respect."

Wide eyed, the young demon dropped to one knee and bowed his head. "Forgive me, I didn't know…"

Willow looked curiously over at her girlfriend who squeezed her hand and smiled slightly in response but offered no explanation. Shrugging, the redhead bade the demon to stand up. With every passing moment, she felt that her assessment about her Destiny had been correct. If Jirel and Recka's actions were not enough to prove it, she did not know what would be. The gem around her neck felt like it was buzzing with anticipation.

"To what do we owe this honor?" the lighter demon asked, his head still bowed as if he were afraid to look the redhead in the eyes.

"I came to talk to Eurynomus." Willow replied, looking around the den carefully, unsure of what he even looked like.

"Lord Eurynomus is at his usual table." Jirel provided, glancing at one of the private rooms. "Please, allow me to take you back there." Willow shrugged noncommittally but followed as he led them towards the back of the den where Maxwell was seated next to an exceedingly pale demon whose features were fine and delicate, almost elvish; behind him was a large red demon that could have only been Asmodeus.

Upon seeing them, the pale demon stood, his obsidian gaze seeming to light up somehow as he flourished a bow. Maxwell, who had stood up with the demon, blinked a few times in what appeared to be wide-eyed shock before he too bowed. Even the hulking scarlet form in the shadows bent over in supplication.

Willow smiled; she deserved this, didn't she? The green stone around her neck whispered yes. She liked the Demon Link. She had been wearing it barely twelve hours and all she felt was yes. _Yes, she could do this. Yes, everything was working out. Yes, this was all hers. Yes, she could have the power to truly change things. Yes. Yes. Yes_. The pale demon stood nobly until she and Tara sat down and he sank gracefully down next to her.

"I see the Energumen Eye has found its way to its rightful owner." He started, snapping his fingers lightly and causing a nearby human to scurry towards the wet bar.

Willow nodded absentmindedly and thumbed the small gem thoughtfully. It was beginning to feel heavy and she knew that somehow, the dry, acrid taste in the back of her throat was because of the Demon Link. Almost in response to her thoughts, a glass of wine was placed in front of her. The redhead took a grateful sip, her face screwing up into a mask of disgust almost immediately.

"_No. No. No." _ The power chanted in her head. _"What is this? This is not what you need. Something better, there's something better. Ask the demon, he knows." _Shaking her head slightly, Willow pushed the glass away from her, feeling slightly lightheaded. She smiled reassuringly at Tara who was glaring hotly between Eurynomus and the wine glass.

"It's alright." She cooed softly to the blonde, even as her tongue felt dry and bloated.

Eurynomus gave a stately bow of his head. "Forgive me," he started. "I'm afraid that I'm not as knowledgeable in the subtle nuances of the Energumen Eye as I'd like to be. It's been…a long time since anyone has had to have the knowledge." He stood up, nodding his head towards the small Wicca. "You need to feed it properly, of course." He held out his arm in a courteous fashion. "Shall I show you how?"

"_Yes. Yes. Yes." _The power chanted merrily. She glanced over at Tara and when the blonde nodded her head slightly, Willow kissed her once and took the pale demon's arm, disappearing into the crowd with Asmodeus close behind.

"You've done well." Maxwell said softly after a few moments of silence.

Tara pulled her gaze away from the point where Willow had disappeared and reached for the glass the redhead had pushed away and took a sip. "I haven't done anything." She admitted, setting the glass on the table and crossing her arms. "Not that it would have made a difference, apparently."

Maxwell frowned and tried to catch Tara's eye but was met with the back of her head as she had turned away again. "What do you mean by that?"

The blonde sighed heavily and ran a hand through her hair. "Nothing." She replied firmly. "What progress have you made with Buffy?"

The brunet wrinkled his nose and huffed slightly. He wished Tara would turn her head and look at him. "Fine. She doesn't suspect a thing. I personally discarded every item in Wyrd that would have helped her."

Tara took another sip of wine and turned to face him. "How can I be sure that you're not going to help her?" she reasoned. "After all, she's the Slayer…isn't it in your best interest to get rid of her?"

Maxwell bristled. "What are you talking about? Are you saying I'd betray Lord Eurynomus?...That I'd betray you?"

The blonde witch made a disgusted noise and swirled the glass in her hand before taking a liberal gulp and all but slamming it back onto the counter. "I saw how eager you were to help her after she told you her little story." She spat. "Come on, Max. You were supposed to misguide her, not offer to help. What's wrong with you? What are you really up to?"

The doe-eyed brunet clenched his fists under the table. "What's wrong with _me_? I'm not the one whose been changing, Tara. Something's been happening to you ever since _Her Majesty_ got here. You're changing…you're different."

Tara threw her hands up exasperatedly and pushed her chair away from the table, standing up. "This is ridiculous. I'm going to find Willow." As she stood up, the lights in the room blurred and she stumbled backwards slightly. Putting her hand on her forehead, she tried to shake the sudden wave of nausea that crept up her throat and lurched a few steps forward. Gripping the edge of the table, Tara's vision swam and she tried to locate Maxwell. "What did you do to me?" she sputtered, searching desperately for the familiar redhead through her bleary gaze.

The tall brunet was standing behind her and he wrapped an arm around her waist, causing her to lean back as her eyes went in and out of focus. "I'm going to help you." He whispered near her ear. Whatever's happening to you, I'm going to stop it. You'll thank me later."

Tara's reply was lost as her eyes slid closed and she slumped onto Maxwell's shoulder, unconscious.

*

Willow felt better. Much better. A distant part of her mind protested at the prospect of leaching other people's energy, but the three people Eurynomus had presented her with had been more than willing and she had been so incredibly thirsty. With her unbelievable craving sated, she was even feeling on better terms with the newfound information that she was to ascend the throne of Hell. Still, the redhead had to admit, there was a certain beauty to seeing someone's aura pulled away from them.

She studied the humans sitting dumbly on the sofa of the private room she was in. A middle aged man and woman, and young man in his early twenties sat staring blankly at the wall across from them, their complexions grey, their faces completely expressionless. There was no light around them, black or otherwise.

"Are they dead?" She asked the pale demon curiously, the power inside her raised her mental hackles at the rising feeling of fear and remorse that was bubbling inside her. _"Who cares?"_ it whispered. _"They didn't matter. They were nothing, nobodies. Who cares?"_

"Not quite." The alabaster prince replied, rising from his chair. He was more than impressed with the Queen. He had heard that the Queen would be able to directly feed off auras, but had never thought that he would witness it first hand; and she had not even fully ascended yet. He glanced at the Energumen Eye which had gone from a transparent green to dark swamp water green and smiled charmingly. "I suppose, if you like, you could think of them as zombies. They're little else in this state."

Willow hummed thoughtfully and wondered if she had the ability to put the energy back. _"No!" _the mental voice scolded. _"We don't 'put back.' We take. Take what's ours." _She shook her head to silence her mental chatter and opened her mouth to ask when she felt a sudden ripple of panic at the edge of her mind. "Tara!" she called out, already halfway out the door. The crowds of patrons parted for her and she sprinted towards their table, feeling bile in the back of her throat at the prospect of what could have happened.

When she got there, the table was empty and the few people who dared to putter around the so-called VIP section were far too intoxicated on magical highs to remember what had gone on. Eurynomus slid up to one side of her and Asmodeus on the other.

"Asmodeus?" the ebony-eyed demon asked, his voice quiet. He felt that perhaps he should have been more forthcoming with Maxwell about what had happened the last time Tara had been taken away from the slight redhead. Although, this situation could have been a blessing in disguise. If anything happened to the blonde, he was sure that Willow's ascension would be exponentially expedited.

The hulking red demon stepped forward and sniffed deeply at the air around the table, picking up the wine glass and inhaling the remnants. "It was only Maxwell and Lady Tara at the table, Masters." His deep timbre rasped. "Mild poison in the glass."

"Someone tried to poison the Queen?" Eurynomus blinked in shock. This particular stunt required retribution on Maxwell as he had been very clear about his neophyte putting Tara out of his mind, but trying to poison the Queen? Simply unforgivable.

Asmodeus shook his horn-rimmed head and took a step away from Willow. "No, my Lord. I would have detected it when the glass was first brought to the table. It must have been added after we left. Deadly, but there's not a lethal dose in the glass."

Willow's hands were clenched so tightly into fists that her knuckles were white and her fingernails were beginning to draw blood. "Where does Maxwell live?" she heard herself ask calmly, but in her head, the power was screaming in a sing-song voice: _"Kill. Kill. Kill."_


	23. When the Soul is Severed from the Body

**AN: **99.9 percent of this chapter is memory recovery. There's probably only two or three more chapters before the story is finished.

_Tara was the happiest she had been in a long while. She was back where she belonged, back with Willow. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the side of their bed, the sheets a horrible mess of tangles and draping carelessly over the edge. In spite of herself, she felt her cheeks flush and she wished they could get back to the making up part of making up. She inhaled deeply for a moment, taking in a lung full of Willow's scent that clung to every surface in the room. She had missed the younger witch more than she had the vocabulary to express._

_Smiling, she turned toward the mirror and watched the redhead's reflection as she buttoned the white shirt she was wearing. They were supposed to be researching, doing important Scooby work. Admittedly, Tara was thinking less about research and more about stopping Willow from attaining fully clothed status. The blonde had been lost without her girlfriend. She had seen how broken Willow was and from the very moment she had left the house, all she had wanted to do was come back. She just had to be sure that the younger witch was ready, and she was. Being without the hacker had shown Tara how much she needed her. Even though Willow had hurt her deeply, she was beginning to understand, and being unable to hold a grudge against her, had forgiven the redhead entirely_

_Willow's reflection smiled impishly at her as her thin fingers finished with the last button. "Hey. Clothes." She proclaimed as she turned to face the blonde. She spoke as if the notion were novel and amusing. _

_Tara felt her lips curve upwards of their own accord and she raised her eyebrows slightly. "Better not get used to 'em." She advised, grinning cheekily. _

_Willow pretended to think about the order for a moment, but her grin was lascivious. "Yes ma'am!" she acquiesced._

_Tara felt the redhead's fingers hook through the belt loops on her jeans. Willow jerked her forward and into a passionate but brief kiss and as they slipped their arms around each other, Tara hummed contentedly and marveled at how perfectly the redhead fit into her arms. She felt like she was home. She was suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss her again when movement drew her attention to the window over the younger witch's shoulder._

_"Xander!"_

_Willow pulled away from her and quirked an eyebrow. "Okay," she started; the tone of her voice was teasing. "Not quite the response I was fishing for…" _

_Tara smiled sheepishly and dipped her head slightly. "No, he's here." _

_As the redhead rummaged around the dresser drawer for something, the blonde turned towards the window to watch Xander cross the lawn towards Buffy._

_"Think they're making up?" _

_Tara looked over her shoulder at the redhead's question, a wide grin on her face. "I hope so. That's the best part." And she meant it on both levels. She watched the redhead hum and haw over the contents of the dresser when suddenly; she was struck with how much she loved Willow._

_It was not a new sensation; she had loved Willow for a long time. The force with which it hit her, was what truly shocked her. Her throat closed tightly and she felt ready to burst into tears. She wanted to wake up to her every morning, fall asleep with her every night, have fights about whose turn it was to do the dishes, decide which curtains would look good in their house, and raise children. She wanted all of that with redhead so desperately that the intensity startled her. _

_She had often entertained the idea of the two of them moving out, getting married and starting a family, but they had never spoken about it in serious terms before. After everything that they had been through, after everything that had happened, Tara felt like it was time to have that talk. Biting her lower lip to keep her heart from bursting, she turned back towards the window to regain her composure and plan on how she was going to have 'the talk' with Willow. Through the glass, she saw Xander and Buffy pulling apart from what had most likely been a hug as a member of the trio dressed in black waved his arms around wildly, something in his hand. She squinted, trying to make the figures out; it looked like Warren._

_Tara heard the glass of the window shatter loudly and time seemed to go in slow motion. She admired how the falling fragments caught the sunlight as they tumbled to the floor, the way the slight breeze wafted into the room now that the window was no longer impeding its path, carrying with it, the faint smell of flowers. Looking down at the shards as they clattered musically at her feet, the blonde noticed a growing red spot on her chest. Frowning, she turned around to face Willow who was smiling serenely at her, a smattering of the red seemingly sprayed across the redhead's frilly blouse._

_Tara frowned. "Your shirt…" she started apologetically, somehow feeling that the stain was her fault. Then a searing pain like one she had never known before took hold in her chest and she suddenly felt a cold wind whip through the room as she lost her balance and fell forward, the light growing dim as she collapsed._

_The blonde's first instinct was panic. The world did not go dark all at once, but faded out as if a dimmer switch had been turned. Honestly, she thought something had happened to the sun. It was so dark and cold that she could not see her hand in front of her face. _

"_Tara?"_

_Was that Willow's voice? It sounded so far away. The blonde felt as if she was underwater and the air supply in her lungs was running out. She tried to call out to the redhead, whose voice had sounded so fragile, but her mouth would not open. Panic bubbled from within her as she lost feeling in every part of her body. She could hear Willow crying, sobbing wildly and she was worried something might have happened to her, but Tara was stuck in the darkness._

"_Baby, come on!" the redhead hiccupped. "Get up!"_

_With her last burst of energy, Tara shook off the icy wind that engulfed her and forced her eyes open as she struggled to stand up. The first thing she noticed was how broken Willow looked. The second thing she realized was that the younger witch was delicately cradling her body. _

_Strangely, Tara felt no fear. It was a curious thing to see your own body when you were not inside it. It was much different than looking at yourself in a mirror, but the blonde could not place why. The woe on Willow's face broke her heart and she reached out to stroke the redhead's hair, but all that seemed to do was make the hacker cry harder._

_Tara glanced around the room, looking for anything to help her communicate with the other witch when she realized how strange everything looked. It almost as if someone had put a slightly red-sepia filter over her eyes. She felt like she was in a dream. _

"_No…no…" Willow sobbed, rocking back and forth with Tara's limp body cradled in her arms. _

_The blonde looked up as a sudden sharp, painful blue-white light split the ceiling open and swirled above her head. She felt herself being pulled upwards even as she swam against the current of energy, fighting to stay near her girlfriend. Just as the light swallowed her up, she saw Willow look up, her eyes completely black. Reaching out towards her love, her universe, Willow's eyes turned red and the light claimed the blonde's rising form._

_*_

"_Tara." A soft voice called somewhere above her._

_The blonde groaned inwardly, feeling like someone was trying to rouse her from a deep slumber. The she remembered what had happened._

"_Willow?" she questioned, shooting into a sitting position and immediately regretting it as her head swam. _

_She was met not with a vision of her lover, but with three females kneeling near her._

"_Moirae?" she corrected herself in the same questioning tone. She was sitting on the floor in some manner of temple, feeling extremely lightheaded, but no worse for the wear. An inspection of her shirt revealed that the bloodstains were gone. Looking down at her hands, she realized that she must have died, as her skin was glowing faintly, but she did not _feel_ dead. Just confused. _

_The smallest of the three, Clotho, a mere girl, took Tara's hand and nodded solemnly. "You're not dead." She provided, noting the blonde's curious gaze. "Well, you're not _really_ dead."_

"_What she means," a matronly Atropos provided, pushing some of her curls away from her face. "Is that you're in limbo."_

"_Limbo?" Tara's head hurt. She was certain that she could not be dead if she were still capable of getting headaches. She just wanted to go back home. _

_Clotho patted the hand she was holding and bobbed her head up and down. _

"_Rest assured that it isn't your time yet." Lachesis spoke up, watching the blonde carefully._

_The witch heard herself giggle a tad hysterically, but felt no air pass out of her lungs. She supposed that if anyone were to know when it was 'her time,' it would have been Lachesis. "So I can go back home?" she voiced hopefully; perhaps she was having a near death experience. The looks on the Fate's faces said something else and her gaze sank to the ground._

"_Your body is dead, Tara." Atropos provided gently. "It's time for you to fulfill a part of your Destiny now."_

"_My Destiny?"_

"_Willow needs you, more than ever."_

_Tara nodded. If she could have cried, she would have. "Willow's in trouble?" _

_Atropos rose from the ground and took a gilded handheld mirror off the central altar and handed it to the blonde. "You're not going to like what you see." The motherly woman warned sadly. "But it's necessary for you to know the scope of what is to come."_

_Nodding grimly, the witch took the mirror and gazed into it, surprised that she could clearly see Clotho's reflection from the girl's position on the floor next to her, but her own image was nothing more than a halo of light. It was unsettling and she was about to ask about it when the glass on the mirror appeared to shimmer and warp._

_It was dark in the image, nighttime in the woods. Warren was on the ground, heaving heavily in great pain, staring in abject fear at something off to the left. He threw something blue out of the scope of the mirror._

"_Capture!" he shouted hoarsely before getting to his feet and dashing off through the woods as if Death itself was at his heels._

_The image in the mirror shifted to a woman encased in a cocoon of some manner of gelatinous blue substance and it took a moment of really studying the image for Tara to realize that she was looking at Willow who was struggling to free herself from her bonds. The redhead's eyes glowed red and the encasement fell away from her as if it were nothing and she brushed herself off casually, seemingly unconcerned that Warren had gotten away._

"_No!" the blonde cried out, helpless to do anything. _

_Willow froze with her right hand on her left arm and cocked her head to the side curiously. "I'm going to make him pay." She vowed as if she had heard the blonde's voice. _

_The soft lit that endeared the younger witch to Tara was gone, replaced by cold determination. For a split second, there was so much pain and grief on Willow's face that the blonde gasped. Rivulets of golden light spilled from her eyes as she sobbed, dropping the mirror to the floor where it clattered onto the marble unharmed, the glass returning to normal. She did not want to see anymore. _

_Clotho's small arm wrapped around Tara's shoulders, attempting to console her, but it was of no use. Behind her, Lachesis was holding a length of cord colored indigo and black. Solemnly, she took a silver pair of shears from the altar and cut it, watching the lower half flutter to the ground before both pieces disappeared. _

"_It's done." The olive skinned woman said gravely, coming back into Tara's line of vision._

"_Wh-what's happening to her?" the witch sputtered out looking up to Atropos for some sign of hope._

"_Willow has a lot of power." The eldest Fate began, choosing her words carefully. "Both of you have more power than you realize. Willow's foray into the darker side of magic has triggered a path which if completed, will lead her to sit on the throne of Hell as its puppet-Queen, controlled by the will of The First Evil."_

_Tara nodded dumbly, remembering how Willow's eyes had gone from black to red._

"_Without you there to balance her, she is going to spiral out of control, but there is hope."_

"_I'll do anything to save her." _

_Atropos smiled gently. "I know. If Willow chooses, she will learn to cope with her grief. She will eventually seek us out and we will send her to you. This is all part of the way that leads her to the dark throne."_

"_Can I stop it?"_

"_Yes. There is a possibility that this can be stopped, but it's your decision. If you choose, you can move on to your soul's final resting place. If not, you can be reborn in another dimension, one directly tied to Willow's potential ascension. However, I'm inclined to warn you that it's a hell dimension. We will do our best to protect your soul, but it will be necessary for you to become part of the darkness."_

"_I'll go." Tara replied without hesitation, standing up._

"_You're sure?"_

"_I'll do anything to save her." She repeated, her voice full of determination. _

"_You will not remember her." Lachesis supplied, resting a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Being reborn has the tendency to wipe one's memories and in order for you to not only embrace darkness, but strive toward it, you cannot remember her. Redemption is a very delicate thing and the fate of a multitude of dimensions rests on Willow's."_

_Tara nodded firmly. "I will remember her." She said, her voice full of conviction. "I don't care what I have to go through, but I won't forget. I can't."_

"_The connection between the two of you is rare and very strong." Lachesis consented. "Even we do not fully comprehend its power. If anyone were to be the exception to the rules, it would be the two of you. Are you ready?"_

_Tara straightened her shoulders and held an image of the redhead in her mind, willing herself not to forget the one person that made her complete. "I'm ready."_

*

Gasping into wakefulness, Tara struggled to open her eyes. She could feel her heart throbbing in her temples, though if it was from being drugged or the return of all her memories, she could not be sure. She remembered everything now. With the addition of what had happened after she had been shot, a flood of old memories poured into her.

_"What have I done?"_ she panicked, feeling violently ill. Her eyes felt gummy and her vision was cloudy. Moving her arms to rub the vision back into her eyes, she found that her wrists were bound to a length of chain bolted to the floor.

Looking around, the blonde found herself in a well lit but windowless room. There was the beginnings of a ritual set up in the middle of the floor, one she did not immediately recognize and that made her nervous. On the far left of the pale yellow wall, a black metal staircase ascended to a simple wooden door. The door, she recognized though she had only ever seen it from the other side until that point. She was in Maxwell's house. She struggled for a few moments, hoping to pull the chains free, but they were securely fastened to the highly polished wooden floor and she could see no flaws in the wood to exploit. She was stuck.

Tears built up behind her eyes as the force of what was happening barreled down on her, but she would not allow herself to cry. She had to find a way to put an end to this. Taking a few deep breaths, she slid her eyes closed and prayed that her spur of the moment idea would work before Maxwell came downstairs. Her only hope was to contact Buffy.


	24. The Slayer and the AntiSlayer Meet

Buffy wiped furiously at the frustrated tears that were stinging her eyes. Once she had left Wyrd, she started for the direction of Maxwell's house only to realize that she had never paid that much attention to the names of the streets. She had been circling different affluent looking blocks, hoping to spot the fancy cream exterior of the brunet's stucco home. The idea had first been to find Willow. She had no idea what she would have done once she confronted the redhead, but it would at least be something.

After realizing that Willow was at Tara's and she had no idea where that was, Buffy had gone back to the Amphora on the slim chance that she could catch either Willow or Tara there, but neither woman was anywhere to be seen. Her only other option was to look for Maxwell and ask him where Tara lived. He had to know. She had spent a solid five minutes just concocting a believable story about how she needed to find the redhead urgently, but did not need him to go with her.

That had been almost two hours ago. Amy either had no idea where Maxwell's house was or she was lying through her teeth. Either way, she was no closer to finding Willow and Tara had had the Energumen Eye for two weeks, she could already be too late.

"_Get a grip." _She scolded herself as she sank down onto a bench on the empty sidewalk. _"You're not too late. Willow's okay…she's fine."_ Buffy forced herself to gulp down a lungful of air to calm herself down. She felt like a lot of this was her fault. If she had just told Willow the truth in the first place, they could have spent the entire time working on finding a way to get back home and helping Tara.

The Slayer let out a huff of air that sounded like a not-quite sob and ran a shaky hand through her hair as she thought about the once docile blonde witch. Without her memories, Tara was a markedly different person. She seemed more like herself when she was around Willow, but she was worried about the effect that this dimension had done to her friend. She was afraid for Tara, afraid for Willow, afraid for herself and terrified that it was too late to make things right.

Hauling herself off the bench, she canceled her small respite and started jogging down the street, glancing at every turn for something that would trigger a sense of familiarity. Overhead, the late afternoon sun was casting golden light on everything and Buffy felt that it would be more appropriate had it been raining. The sense of urgency that she had been having of late had grown to such an intensity that a hard knot of anticipation seemed firmly lodged in her throat. She had to save Willow. She had to save them all.

"Here!" she huffed almost silently as she veered off to her right and down an avenue of familiar looking houses. The avenue ended in a cul-de-sac and Buffy retraced her steps, sniffing hard as panic threatened to break her dam of tears. Normally, as the Slayer, she had an excellent sense of direction, but this version of Sunnydale was so similar to her own, that every street looked familiar. Pumping her legs a little harder, Buffy lengthened her strides, hoping to cover more ground, hoping that she would chance upon Maxwell's house. She even dared to wish for seeing Willow or Tara through one of the windows of the houses she darted by. A strange prickling sensation tickled the back of her mind and Buffy slowed her pace a little, maybe she was getting closer.

"_Buffy?"_ a soft voice echoed in her head.

"Tara?" the Slayer asked aloud, searching the windows of the houses she jogged by. All she was met with was the bright yellow glare of the sun bouncing off glass.

"_Y-yes, it's me."_

"Tara, you _have_ to listen to me!" the tiny blonde shouted, not caring that she appeared to be talking to herself. "Willow's in danger! Where is she? Oh, God, is she okay?"

"_I…I don't know. I g-gave…I gave her the necklace."_

Buffy halted in her tracks, stopping so suddenly that she nearly stumbled forward. "You _what_?"

"_I didn't know what I was doing." _ Tara sent, her mental voice was pleading. _"Buffy, I heard you and Maxwell talking at the magic shop a-and I thought you were going to kill her…I thought I was doing the right thing. I just wanted her to be safe."_

"Tara." The Slayer started firmly. "If you don't help me find her, she _is_ going to die."

There was a pained pause on Tara's end and Buffy could feel a slight ripple of the blonde witch's emotion cascade through her. She was terrified…and full of guilt. Taking a deep breath, the Slayer felt her spirits lifted. If Tara regretted giving the redhead the necklace, maybe everything would be okay. Maybe she had not put it on yet or perhaps it took time to work.

"_Buffy, I'm so s-sorry." _Tara finally replied. _"I…I couldn't remember that you would never hurt Willow. I…I didn't know."_

She noted the change in Tara's voice and her strange words. "What's going on?"

"_I remember. I remember everything." _ The blonde witch's mental voice was barely above a whisper and Buffy closed her eyes, shutting off one of her senses to try to redirect their efforts towards hearing Tara.

"How?"

"_I don't know…After I…after I died, I saw the Fates. They said I wouldn't remember anything, but Willow is my other half. You can't forget your soul mate. I started getting some memories back, but after Maxwell knocked me out, I got them all back. Please, Buffy. W-we have to help her. There isn't much time."_

"Maxwell did what?"

"_He drugged me…I'm chained up. I think he's going to do something to Willow. There's an anti-magic barrier around his house. I exploited a crack so I could find you, but when he comes back, he'll notice I've been using it. You have to get here before Willow does…She's probably on her way with Eurynomus now."_

"Shit." Buffy muttered, more to herself than to Tara. "I'm trying to get there." She said a little louder, opening her eyes and resuming her jogging. "I don't know where I'm going…I'm on…" she glanced at a green street sign reflecting the sunlight harshly as she whizzed by it. "Rosebush."

"_Thank the Goddess." _Tara's relief flooded through Buffy, calming the Slayer's nerves. _"Turn right on the next street. It's the third house on the left. I'm in the baseme…he's coming! Be careful, Buffy. There are traps." _

With that final warning, the tingling sensation in her head left her and she knew that she was alone with her thoughts. She turned as instructed and nearly yelled for joy when she saw Maxwell's cream-colored house looming in the distance. She was going to show this man the meaning of the word Slayer.

*

"It's a spell!" Willow hissed, her anger rising. A gaunt human had been driving them around in circles for what seemed like ages. Maxwell was cloaking himself and doing it exceedingly well. _"We know a spell for that, don't we?"_ the gem asked inside her head. Her right hand twitched of its own accord, which unsettled the redhead slightly. _"We can remove the spell, but we need more power. Feed the power and we can save her." _

Willow shook her head firmly, trying to dislodge the voice from her head. The voice had gone quickly from telling her yes, to all but ordering her, insisting that she feed it. "Eurynomus." She said instead.

"Yes, my Lady?"

"Can you remove the cloak?"

"Most assuredly, my Lady. However, wouldn't it be more prudent to do it yourself?"

"I haven't enough power right now." She replied, closing her eyes and feeling for the scope of the spell. "It's far too big."

"_Feed. Feed. Feed!" _the gem insisted. _"We can teleport there; we can show him what happens when someone defies you, when someone hurts her. Make an example of him. Feed."_

The pale demon smiled. "You simply need to feed, my Queen. We can have Asmodeus-"

"-Shut up." The redhead interrupted, talking to the power just as much as the demon seated next to her. Her command caused the alabaster prince, the demon who bowed to few, to shut his mouth with an audible click. "What I _need_ is for you to remove the cloak. Can you do it or not?"

"Yes, my Lady."

Willow nodded once and leaned forward in her seat, her view of the driver all but obscured by half of Asmodeus' hulking arm. "Stop the car."

*

Feeling Maxwell's presence at the door, Tara sent one last warning Buffy's way and slumped against the wall, feigning unconsciousness. She kept her breathing even as she heard his dress shoes click against the metal staircase, cross the room and stop in front of her.

"Open your eyes, Tare." He said gently. "I know you're awake."

Tara did as she was told, lifting her gaze. He was holding an arm full of black candles. Smiling a little, he nodded to her and backed up several paces, dumping his load on the floor before beginning to place them around the circle that had been drawn on the floor in white paint.

"Sorry about the chains." He continued, his voice genial. "I couldn't be sure you wouldn't take off, you understand." He frowned and waved his hand in the air, muttering an incantation under his breath. "Who were you talking to, Tara? Was it Willow?"

Tara pulled against the chains on the floor again, but did not answer him.

"Oh come on, don't be like that. The silent treatment? That's no way to treat a friend."

The blonde laughed in spite of herself. "Friend? Do you e-even know what that word means?"

Maxwell stopped his candle placement and walked a few steps toward her, stopping when he was just out of her reach. "That hurts." He said, genuinely sounding wounded as he squatted down to look her in the eyes. "Of course I know what that means. It means I won't abandon you just because times are tough." He cocked his head to the side, regarding her thoughtfully. "Your little red-haired friend is pretty powerful…I noticed how she changed part of your aura. I'm just going to speed along the process is all. It's for your own good."

"What do _you_ know about _good_?" the blonde spat, launching an arm out at him only to have the chains stop her an inch from his face.

He chuckled and stood up, going back to his ritual space. "Probably about as much as you, my dear. Don't pretend like you're a paragon of virtue. I've been privy to some of your more horrible acts."

Tara's stomach turned, he was not wrong. "What are you going to do?" she asked, trying to stall for time until Buffy made her way into the house.

"Fix you." He said simply, pulling a lighter from his pocket. A sharp pounding that carried to the basement interrupted anything else he was going to say and he tisked his tongue at the blonde, shaking his head. "Buffy, Really? Why not Willow? I was hoping she'd get here soon." He shot his hand up towards the ceiling and a huge wave of purple light shot up from his palm and engulfed the house. The pounding stopped. "That should hold her for a while."

"W-what are you going to do to Willow?"

"Don't you think it's a little ridiculous," Maxwell replied instead, lighting the candles. "That someone from a random dimension is chosen to ascend? Don't get me wrong, Willow has a lot of power…but so do you."

"What are you talking about?" Tara prayed that Buffy was making progress.

"Now is not the time to be modest, Tara. I've been looking into this for a while. You have the ability to ascend. It _should_ be you on the throne…not…_her_."

Tara was beginning to understand his meaning. "What's in it for you?"

He stopped and glanced over his shoulder at her. "Isn't it obvious?"

"You can't make me love you."

Maxwell smiled broadly, replacing the lighter into his pocket and brushing off his hands on his black slacks. "The hell I can't, you know me better than that, Tara. I've found a way to fix you, I thought you'd be happier. We'll get you better all the way…I'll dispose of Willow, and you will ascend with me at your side. It's a win-win situation, really."

He moved to stand in the middle of the circle; his palms pointed towards her and began to chant.

"I won't!" Tara shouted, pulling against her bonds once more, but it did not phase the brunet man in the slightest, he just kept chanting.

*

On arriving in Maxwell's front yard, Buffy cautiously made her way up the front stairs, mindful of Tara's warning about traps. Sure enough, the second she reached her hand for the knob on the oaken front door, the entire door simply vanished.

"Oooo-kay, so not the front door." She said to the house, going around to one of the windows. Glancing up and down the street casually, she shot a fist out at the window only to be thrown backwards and sent tumbling onto the sidewalk.

Picking herself up and cracking her neck, Buffy scanned the yard for some other way in. Clearly, she was going to have to fight dirty. Jogging across the street, she took off at a dead run and lowered her shoulder, preparing to ram into the magical barrier. Closing her eyes in anticipation of impact, she saw the barrier in the form of blue light part for her and she careened into the front door, splintering the brown wood.

Satisfied that the house was not going to throw her backwards again, she backed up to the edge of the front porch and prepared another attack. The door itself must have had a spell on it as Buffy was having a hard time getting it to budge. Steeling herself with the thought of Tara being trapped inside and with the possibility that Willow may have made it there before her, Buffy tried again.

On the tenth try, the had begun to make pretty good progress when a wave of purple light washed over her, sending her sailing through the air in a high arc. She had just enough time to flail her arms a little before she landed with a sickening thud on top of the hood of a car which caved in under the force of the impact.

Jumping up quickly at the feeling of the hot metal on her back, Buffy turned to glance at the sleek black SUV that broke her fall only to spy Willow in the back seat, in the process of getting out. Intense relief came over her until she saw who else was in the vehicle with her. Asmodeus, the big red demon she had fought what seemed like years ago was dashing for her, the lithe, deathly pale man at Willow's side could have only been Eurynomus.

Buffy took a fighting stance and brought her fists up, prepared to give the spiky headed demon another taste of Slayer wrath when Willow held out her hand, shaking her head.

"Stop." She called and the large demon halted his actions.

For a moment, the blonde Slayer could swear that she felt the world fall down around her. Had she spelled the demon into ceasing his advances? Glancing over at the redhead, she breathed a sigh of ease at noticing the redhead's eyes were still green and her hair it's natural red-auburn. The dark color of the gem around her neck was unsettling, however. Buffy guessed that in two or three more 'feedings' Willow would be lost.

*

"_She's going to try and stop you." _ The gem shouted at her, making her head hurt. She looked over the hood of the now severely dented car at Buffy who looked thinner than the last time they had seen each other. _"Let's do away with her. We can feed. Slayers are made from demons, she has darkness. We can feed."_

"Tara's in there isn't she?" she asked instead, stepping out from behind the car and not bothering to explain her present company.

Buffy nodded. "She contacted me…" at Willow's questioning gaze, the petite blonde tapped the side of her head with her index finger and continued speaking once the redhead started talking again. "Maxwell's got her chained up in the basement. Will…I can't get in."

"_He's chained her! He deserves to suffer! Feed! We need more power, can't you feel it? The Slayer's power?"_

Willow swallowed thickly and nodded. She could feel Buffy's power, she wanted it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; reciting an incantation Tara had taught her to control darkness.

"_No! No! No! Coward!"_ but the gem was much quieter and easier to ignore.

"It's going to take a while to get all the barriers off." The redhead said, eyeing said barriers. "Eurynomus, take Asmodeus around the back and start over there. Buffy and I will go in through the front."

"But…my Lady," The pale demon started, his tone pleading.

"Go." Willow cut him off, pointing towards the backyard.

Buffy watched in sick fascination as the two demons bowed their heads to the witch and traipsed to the back of the house. Willow sighed, looking suddenly very tired and paced in a small line in front of the house, studying it.

"_Get your guts back, Summers." _ Buffy told herself, walking up to Willow. "Willow…" she faltered, unsure of how to start. "I'm…I'm sorry about what I said, before…"

Willow glanced over her shoulder, but did not stop pacing. "It doesn't matter."

The Slayer watched her palm one of the barriers, her face twisting into concentration. "Yes, it _does_ matter…I said…I said some things I shouldn't have. Things that weren't true. I've said a lot of things like that, lately…"

"No." the redhead replied, almost sadly. "You were right about me all along, Buffy. This is the way it's going to be. Once we save Tara, I'm sending you home. I'll be able to then."

"_Home? What a waste. We feed. We want her power, don't we? You can reach out and take it, you deserve it, and you need it to save her. Take it. Take it."_

Mesmerized by the now soft tones of the gem, Willow shook her head and took her hand back, not realizing that she had reached a hand out towards the Slayer.

Buffy, noticing her actions, cast a glance up at the sky, praying for help. "I won't leave without you."

A barrier fell away with a snap of blue light. "Yes you will."

"No, Willow. I won't…I can't…I promised the Fates that I would keep you safe."

The redhead glanced at her and laughed hollowly. A second barrier fell away in a flash of purple. "Is _that_ your reason? Because it's your sacred duty? I have one of those too, Buffy." The last barrier fell away in a haze of yellow and Willow clenched her fists and started for the front door. "And I'm about to go fulfill it."


	25. Welcome to the World, Sleeping Beauty

"Willow," Buffy tried, following the redhead up the porch steps. "That necklace isn't what you think."

"_Don't listen to her, she lies." _The Energumen Eye whispered harshly.

Willow seemed disinterested, but did not object to the Slayer's line of conversation.

"It was made by The First to _control_ you, Will. It only feels like you're in control, but once the stone goes black, you'll be gone. Please…"

"_Lies! Blasphemy! Feed!"_

The redhead paused. They were standing in a high hallway with expensively tiled floors, the light outside was dim and cast wide shadows around them. She looked down at the Demon Link and brought it up to her face for inspection with her thumb and forefinger, making a face as if she just noticed its color.

"Willow, we can put an end to this." Buffy said softly. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry for everything I've said, how I've alienated you…please, Will…don't do this."

"My Lady?" Eurynomus' smooth voice cut in as he and the hulking red demon came in through the sliding glass doors visible beyond the hallway.

Shaking her head as if coming out of a daze, the hacker dropped the necklace back to her chest and nodded towards the demons before turning down a side hallway, using her power to feel for the basement door.

"Quit while you're ahead, Slayer." The demon prince whispered behind her once Willow was out of earshot. "As long as you stay on her good side, you have the chance to make it out of this alive."

Buffy snorted. "Yeah? Well I wish I could say the same for you. Believe me when I say that the inside of this house is the last thing you'll ever see."

The black-eyed demon hissed and his face contorted horribly, his eyes turning red. His teeth seemed to lengthen in his mouth and even Asmodeus was trembling. "Do _not_ try my patience, girl." He warned, his voice taking on a polytonal quality. "You only live through the will of the Queen."

Buffy was not impressed. "Enjoy your last few moments while you can, Casper."

"I will relish strangling you with your own entrails and devouring your still beating heart as you gasp your last breaths."

The blonde Slayer stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry at him, turning to follow Willow who was at the end of a connecting hallway, looking curiously at the basement door.

"She's down there." The redhead said softly.

"Great." The small blonde replied, sick of being in the house already. "Let's go do the rescue yon maiden thing." She reached for the doorknob, surprised that Willow grabbed her by the wrist roughly.

"Buffy, no!"

"What's wrong? Don't you wanna…"

"It's a trap." Willow waved her hand in front of the door and three glowing white symbols appeared to hover in front of them. She glanced behind her. "Asmodeus."

The large demon stomped forward solemnly and nodded his large red head. Touching the first symbol, the sign disappeared into the demon's hand, causing his skin to bubble as if it were boiling. Asmodeus doubled over in pain but did not cry out and after a few moments, dragged himself to his feet and touched the second symbol, which also disappeared. Within moments, deep gashes appeared all over his body, seeping out his thick black blood onto his skin where it pooled and dripped to the floor. He settled his yellow gaze on the small witch in front of him, as if pleading with her.

"Do it." She commanded.

Bowing his head, he touched the last symbol and it too, disappeared. Asmodeus dropped to his knees, wailing in agony and clutching his head as dark energy in the form of a long, thick, leech-like snakes wormed their way out of his ears, nostrils, mouth and tear ducts. Buffy watched Willow watch the demon expressionlessly until the snakes ceased their parade and a flash of white light engulfed the door before becoming still. Satisfied, the redhead opened the basement door and beckoned her companions after her.

Buffy followed wordlessly, vowing to keep herself between the witch and the demons at all times. She was rapidly running out of ideas and did not have much time to think. Coming to the middle of the staircase, they passed through another barrier that had gone up the second Willow had passed it.

"Uh, Willow?" the blonde voiced, concerned.

"Now no one can leave until I say so." She supplied, not turning around.

"_Fates,"_ Buffy pleaded. _"If you can hear me, now would be a really awesome time to lend a hand…"_

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, they were met with a horrible sight. Maxwell was kneeling in the middle of a circle, bathed in a black fire, apparently spent. On the opposite side of the wall from the stairs, Tara was chained to the floor, her hair as black as the gaze she was giving the figure in the middle of the room. Her chains glowed blue, apparently the only things keeping her in place.

"What have you done?" Buffy whispered aghast and feeling as if she had just heard that Tara had been killed all over again.

Maxwell laughed as the fire around him subsided. "You're too late!" he cried merrily. "I've fixed her." He got up to his feet. "Although, I must admit, your timing is horrible. I still have one more…" he glanced over at Willow and gave her a false bow. "Ah! Miss Rosenburg! Always a pleasure!"

"How _dare_ you address your Queen so informally!" Eurynomus growled somewhere behind Buffy.

The Slayer looked over at Willow who seemed to be frozen in wide-eyed shock, staring at the once blonde witch.

"I fear that there is not much to _your_ selection for the throne." Maxwell corrected. "Tara is perfectly capable of ascending now and just look at her. Does she look like someone who would waste time when she should have been feeding the Demon Link? One simple incantation and she'll be mine to control. How dare _you_ address _me_ in such an informal manner!"

"T-Tara?" Even though the redhead's voice was barely above a whisper, the entire room fell silent.

The now ebony haired Wicca pulled her murderous gaze away from Maxwell and her features softened as she set her eyes on the redhead, through the blackness of her eyes and hair did not subside. "You came for me." She said, smiling.

Buffy shivered, it was an extremely disturbing sight.

Willow took a few tentative steps towards the other witch and nodded. _"Look at her!" _the gem whooped joyfully in her head. _"Look at how beautiful she is right now! Look at what you could be!"_

"I'm chained." Tara said, holding up her hands. "The magic hurts."

"_He hurt her! We'll feed from him first. You are merciful, we can let him live, he'll be your slave."_

"Eurynomus."

"Yes, my Lady?"

Willow pointed at Maxwell but did not tear her gaze away from Tara. "Hold him."

"With pleasure, Majesty." He bared his teeth, in an instant was gripping Maxwell's hands behind his back, twisting them upwards, and as the brunet attempted to speak an incantation, the high-level demon waved his hand and Maxwell's mouth sewed itself shut.

"_We could have done that." _The gem protested. _"Don't listen to the Slayer, you're in control. Demon Link does not control, Demon Link augments. That's all. We could have done that."_

"You _could_ have done that, baby." Tara whispered softly as Willow knelt near her girlfriend and took her hands. They were icy cold.

"You can hear it?" The blackness of the other woman's eyes disturbed her deeply. She found herself missing the light and warmth that normally shone back at her. She could see only her reflection within the onyx eyes in front of her.

Tara nodded. "Of course." She brought their hands up and intertwined their fingers. "We're connected."

Willow felt Tara's power running through her and instead of warm, she felt cold. Shaking, the redhead brought a hand up to Tara's face and stroked her cheek. "Unbind." She whispered, and the chains holding the black-eyed witch's wrists lost their fire and dropped away as if they had never touched her skin before. The younger witch pulled them both to their feet and turned to face the room.

"Let him go." She said solemnly to Eurynomus.

Maxwell twisted needlessly out of the pale demon's grip and raised his hands as if to cast something.

"Stop." Tara said coldly and Maxwell's hands stopped moving. "Speak." The stitches fell away from his mouth sand disappeared.

"Explain yourself." Willow demanded, clenching her fists. "What did you do to her?" the redhead glanced over her shoulder at Buffy and the two shared a plaintive look which surprised the Slayer. Maybe she was getting through to the redhead.

"I fixed her." Maxwell said with a little difficulty. "It was what you were going to do, wasn't it?"

"No." she said firmly. "It was what the gem wanted me to do."

Maxwell locked eyes with Tara who sneered at him. "Do you really want that, Tara? She's weak. Listen to her. She can't take power when it's offered to her on a platter. I'm not afraid of it, Tara. I'm not afraid to take what I deserve."

"I'm _not_ afraid of it." Willow hissed, her fingertips crackling with energy.

"_Kill him!" _the gem ordered forcefully. _"He's nothing. He's questioning you. We need to feed, just a few more. Just a few more and then the power…so much power."_

While Willow debated with the voice of power in her head, Maxwell managed to incant a spell to free him from his immobile state and before anyone could stop him, he attempted to hurl a large ball of energy at the smaller witch.

Unsurprisingly, Asmodeus and Eurynomus stood motionless in their previous positions apparently unwilling to step in unless directly ordered to do so. Buffy instinctively put herself between Maxwell and Willow, bracing herself for something very painful, but it never came. When she turned her head back toward the center of the room, Tara was standing in front of Maxwell, holding the energy he had discharged. She brought her hand back to shove the ball into his chest and smirked.

"Tara, no!" both Willow and Buffy called out in unison.

A confused expression on her face, the black haired witch allowed the energy to seep through her fingers and onto the floor.

"See what I mean?" Maxwell started again, now sure that he was in the clear.

When Tara hovered a hand near the brunet's face, he smiled, believing he had won. "Yes," she whispered to him. "I understand." And with that, the dark-eyed witch absorbed his aura.

Maxwell crumpled to the floor, not dead, but his blank stare showed that there was no one inside. She glanced down at him interestedly, her hand still raised in the air.

"Well done, my Lady." Eurynomus approved, clapping the fingertips of one hand onto the palm of the other hand.

"_Yes! Yes! Yes!"_ the gem sang.

Willow was surprised to feel part of Maxwell's darkness enter her. It was not much, but enough to turn the stone minutely darker. It was enough to make her lightheaded.

"_Two more! Two more! Feed and the power will be ours! Think of what you can do, think of what will happen! Yes! Feed!"_

"STOP!" Willow screamed, putting her hands over her ears and squeezing her eyes shut. When she opened her eyes, everything had indeed stopped. Everyone within the room stood unblinking and unmoving. Tara, Willow guessed, was still because at the moment, her dark magic was stronger than the blonde's, black hair or no. Even the gem's incessant chanting was silent. Running a shaky hand through her hair, the redhead placed a hand on Buffy's shoulder and whispered a word of mobility in her ear.

"What happened, Will?" the Slayer asked, looking around the room.

Willow sat down on the ground hard. "Oh Goddess, Buffy, what have I done to us?" she sobbed, reaching her breaking point.

Concerned, the Slayer knelt next to the hacker and rubbed a hand on her back. "Willow, you didn't mean to…"

"You were right, Buffy!" she cried, leaning forward as she dry heaved for a moment. "I _never_ mean to. Look at what I've done this time!" she brought a teary gaze up to Tara and sobbed harder. "L-look at what I've done to Tara! Buffy, what's wrong with me? It was my turn to be the strong one and I couldn't do it…I couldn't do it…"

Not knowing what to say, Buffy gathered the small girl in her arms and rocked back and forth with her, wondering what they were going to do. It occurred to her suddenly, that green-eyed Willow while powerful, did not normally have the ability that black-eyed Willow had. At least, not to freeze that many people at once, let alone two high level demons, a Slayer and a now evil witch. She lifted her eyes toward the ceiling and mouthed a thank you to the Fates, but what was she supposed to do with the time? How much time did they have?

She took a deep breath and pulled away from the still lamenting redhead, holding her friend by the shoulders. Buffy was pained to see the depths of sorrow and guilt in Willow's eyes and she suddenly understood what she had to do.

"Will…" she started, her own voice choking up. "Will, I'm so sorry." And this time, Buffy meant it.

The confusion on the witch's face was evident and she did not have to ask, but she did. "Why? Buffy, you've already apologized and that's not going to help the…"

"Not for that, Willow." She cut off gently, needing the redhead to understand. Not just because her soul depended on it, not just because it was the right thing to do, but because her best friend was hurting and part of it was her fault. "Although, yeah, I'm sorry for everything I've said to you. Willow, when you started getting addicted to magic, I saw it. I know you knew that I saw it." She forced herself to hold the gaze in front of her. "It scared me…It was like watching you stand in the middle of a street and a bus was coming, but I didn't call out to you. I didn't tell you to get out of the road, Will."

"Oh Buffy…Buffy that's not your job…"

"It's _not_ a job to be your best friend…but when that was happening, I treated it like that. God, Willow! I was so scared of losing you that I kept my mouth shut and lost you anyways!" she wiped furiously at the tears spilling down her cheeks. "I wasn't mad at you. I don't think I've ever been mad at you in my life…"

"But Dawn…" Willow trailed off.

"Not even then. I was so upset that I had let you get to that point. I _knew_ I should have left her with you. I should have been helping you, Will…not pretending that everything was all la-di-da when it wasn't. I just…I didn't know what else to do but get mad. I was so angry with myself and I couldn't admit it. If I did, it would mean…it would mean that I'd failed you as a friend. That I'd failed as a person and I…I couldn't cope, Willow. Not with that. Oh God, I'm so sorry. I forgave you a long time ago…I just…I guess I didn't realize it. Can you ever forgive me?"

Buffy watched her friend's face anxiously and then a slow smile spread across her face and Willow enveloped the Slayer in the best bear-hug she can manage, sobbing into the blonde's shoulder. "Of course! Buffy, I've missed you…"

"I've missed you too, Will."

They grinned at each other sheepishly and teary eyed, giggling hysterically and at a true and final peace with what had happened. Willow wiped her eyes and stood up, pulling Buffy to her feet.

"What'll we do?" she asked, surveying the room morosely. No one had budged an inch.

"I…I don't know, honestly."

Willow unclasped the silent gem from around her neck and threw it on the ground hard. She was satisfied with the loud crack it made when it hit the wood floor where it bounced once before skidding a few feet away, revealing a large nick on the floorboard where it hit. "Can we destroy it?"

Buffy shook her head gravely. "I…I did a lot of research about it."

"Really?"

The Slayer shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, you know, I'm working on trying not to make the same mistakes more than once…and I have to do something when my best friend is in trouble."

Willow gave her the briefest of smiles.

Buffy's countenance suddenly became extremely serious. "Will…once you put on the necklace, there's no way to stop it. Either you ascend, or…" she did not want to finish her thought.

Willow knew what she meant anyway and she nodded, her face taking on a look of deep contemplation. When she turned towards the blonde woman a few minutes later, her mouth was set in a grim line and her eyes were narrowed. The famous resolve face. She had come to a decision. "I won't let Tara live with so much darkness, Buffy. I can't…I can't do that to her."

"What are you saying?"

The redhead walked over to where the necklace had skidded to a stop and picked it up, placing it around her neck again. She took a deep breath and looked around the room. Asmodeus was still covered in hundreds of gashes, he would be easy to fight in his weakened state. Eurynomus, who was frozen in mid clap and the immobile Tara would be much more difficult, but she knew what she had to do. She knew what her Destiny was now.

"I'm saying," Willow started confidently, putting her hands on her hips. "That I'm going to do what I came here for. I'm going to save Tara."

Buffy grew wide-eyed and shook her head vehemently. "No, Willow! We can find another way! There's…there's too much and that gem's almost got you. No." her voice shook with the force of her emotion, even though she knew that there was no other way than what the Wicca was suggesting.

"It's the only way, Buffy. You…y-you have to…t-to…to kill me."

"I won't! I can't!" the Slayer protested, not caring that her shouts sounded shrill and afraid.

Willow smiled serenely at Buffy and pulled her into a brief hug. "You will and you can. You'll have just enough time after Eurynomus to end this."

She strode over to an ornate wardrobe that rested behind the staircase where it began to rise. Opening it up, she found what she was looking for. Maxwell's athame was ritualistic and not meant for really killing anything, but it would do. She handed it to the Slayer who simply stared at it and shook her head before looking up sharply.

"What do you mean by 'after Eurynomus?' Willow, you're not seriously going to…"

"I have never been so serious about anything in my life." She took the Slayer's right hand and forcibly wrapped the fingers of that hand around the handle of the simple silver dagger. "If I don't, he'll come after Tara. You heard Max…she can ascend now. He's made it so she can absorb the darkness. I have to take away their ability to hurt her and I can only do that through destroying Eurynomus. You understand, don't you?"

"No." Buffy said firmly even though her head nodded.

The redhead smiled gently and kissed the Slayer on the cheek. "Thank you. For forgiving me…for…well, everything."

"Willow, I can't." she did not bother to wipe at the tears that fell.

The hacker hugged her tightly and when she pulled away, she was smiling. "I know you'll do the right thing, Buffy. You always do eventually."

Willow walked over to Tara, her beautiful Tara who was swimming in darkness. Willow did not dare unfreeze her for fear that the action would unfreeze the gem and cause her newfound sense of purpose to waver. She stroked the black haired Tara's cheek, traced the planes and contours of her face, trying to memorize every detail while omitting the horrible blackness of Tara's hair and eyes. She placed a kiss on the frozen woman's lips, trying to convey everything she could not say out loud and would not get the chance to.

Bringing both of her hands up, she rested them on either side of the blonde's face and concentrated. Within seconds, the darkness began to seep out of Tara, reveling blonde hair underneath all the black.

Buffy looked on helplessly, unsure of what to do but not wanting to watch the scene in front of her unfold. After a minute or two, the blonde's eyes had regained their blue color and there was no trace of black in the taller witch's hair. Unlike the other times she had fed the gem, Willow was careful not to absorb anything but the darkness, rendering the woman entirely herself. As she was making her way over to the pale demon, time started again and chaos ensued.

Tara crumpled to the floor, convulsing and dry heaving, coughing madly. The gem around Willow's neck shifted to one shade lighter than black, Asmodeus moved quickly towards Buffy, apparently deciding he no longer needed permission to attack her now that she inexplicably had a dagger in her hand. Eurynomus opened his mouth to say something when he saw the look in Willow's eyes and began to back away from the witch.

Buffy pulled her eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of her in order to duck a swing the large red demon threw at her. He continued forward as his fist connected with nothing, his momentum carrying him forward, and Buffy jumped onto his back, stabbing for all she was worth. In seconds, he crumpled to the floor, black blood oozing out of the lacerations on his back, head and neck like crude oil and the Slayer rushed over to Tara who was regaining her mental facilities.

Buffy crouched near the blonde to make sure she was okay and helped Tara sit up, surprised as she was pulled into a hug by the blonde witch.

"I don't know what you did, b-but thank you." The Wicca proclaimed.

"It…it was Willow."

At the mention of the redhead, they both turned their gazes towards Willow who had her fingers buried deep in Eurynomus' temples. The tall demon was seizing wildly, shaking all over as color drained from his hair and eyes.

"Oh, God!" Tara screamed, trying to get to her feet, but finding herself still too weak. "Willow, stop! STOP!"

Buffy knew it was no use; the redhead had made up her mind. She stood, leaving the blonde in a sobbing heap on the floor and ran over to the hacker whose eyes were now completely red. Willow's hair was becoming blacker by the second and Buffy tensed, waiting for the right moment. When the Prince of Vultures, Bringer of Chaos, Eater of Flesh, Lord Eurynomus crumpled to the floor, the Slayer forced herself to spring into action, burying Maxwell's athame so far into Willow's back that it slid through her chest, directly above her heart.

Surprised, Willow whirled around to face her attacker, her eyes practically glowing. For a horrible instant, Buffy thought that she had been too late, but the impossibly dark red blood that sputtered through the opening in her chest, burying the point of the blade in rivers of blood told a different story. Looking down at her hands that were covered with her own life, Willow blinked incredulously a few times and sank to the ground. First on her knees and then toppling gracefully over on her side.

"_NO! NO! NO! NO!" _ The gem bellowed in Willow's head, rattling her whole body. She heard Tara scream her name and she tried to reach out to her, tried to tell her that she was okay, but when she opened her mouth, blood rushed out. It was hot and it tasted like copper. She hacked a few wet coughs and tried to say something, anything, but it just came out in a burble.

Tara was pulling her into her arms, chanting "I love you" as if it would bring her back and through the pain, Willow smiled. She was vaguely aware that her eyes were open, yet she saw nothing. Somewhere behind her, she could hear Buffy's broken sobs joining Tara's chorus of love.

For someone who had been deprived of the love of her soul, and the love of her best friend for what had seemed like an eternity, Willow Rosenburg thought that this was a peaceful way to die.

*

As Willow swam her way back to consciousness, she wondered where she would wake up. Would she be in a hellish afterlife? Could she have been redeemed? She was awake, feeling like she was breathing, but was afraid to open her eyes. Perhaps she could just lie there for an eternity with her eyes closed and she would never know.

"Baby, get up." A gentle voice whispered in her ear.

She grinned elatedly. Tara-voice. There was no way that Tara-voice could possibly exist in a hell. She cautiously opened one eye and saw the blonde smiling down at her, a halo of white light surrounding her. She looked like an angel and it made Willow's heart stop in her chest.

"_Wait."_ She reasoned. _"What?"_ opening her other eye, she put a hand to her chest and indeed, her heart was beating. There was no sign that she had recently been on the receiving end of a dagger to the chest. Sitting up, the redhead patted herself down, checking for injuries. "I'm…I'm alive?" she questioned, gazing into Tara's eyes.

The blue eyes holding her gaze twinkled merrily as she bobbed her head up and down. "Welcome to the world, Sleeping Beauty."

Willow let out a strangled cry of joy and flung her arms around her girlfriend's neck, causing them both to topple over onto the marble floor in a fit of giggles. Upon recognizing the floor, Willow stopped laughing and raised herself up on one hand, confirming her suspicions. The temple of the Fates. Sure enough, the three Fates were seated on their ornate thrones behind the main altar, smiling jovially at them.

"I…" Willow began, standing up. "You…" what was she supposed to say? "_How_?"

Atropos smiled broadly and clapped her hands together a few times. "We cannot express how proud we are of you." She said. "Of both of you."

The redhead blushed slightly and looked around the temple again, they were missing someone. "Where's Buffy?"

"She's back home." Tara said, slipping her hand in Willow's. Tara-hand. It was warm, inviting, comforting.

"What we have to offer you," Lachesis picked up. "Is for your ears only. We had to send the Slayer back. She's fine."

Willow breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "Offer?"

Clotho nodded and stood up, speaking for her sisters. "The two of you are true soul mates." She started. "Balance is extremely important to your souls. Tara had to become evil to understand what you went through, and you had to die to understand what she went through. It's really the only way that you two could have been reunited."

"So this was a plan all along?" the green-eyed Wicca could not keep the hurt out of her voice.

The ancient girl chuckled softly and shook her head. "No…We did not want to discourage you by telling you that there was only one chance to get it right, but there was. You took that chance, both of you…and you made it right. The bond you two share makes your magic more powerful than anything we've seen in two thousand lifetimes. Because of that, we offer you power."

"I…I think I've had enough power to last me two thousand lifetimes, thanks." Willow said dryly. Next to her, Tara giggled and squeezed her hand.

Clotho was still smiling as she spoke. "Not that kind of power, Willow. That power came from a dark place…this is similar, but comes from the ultimate source of Light. It is our gift to you. From now on, you shall be Guardians of Light. It's what you deserve; it's your _true_ Destinies."

The hacker looked down at the ground, confused. "H-how could you want to give me something like that when I've got all this…" she searched for a suitable word that would convey her distaste and decided that when she got home, she would have to make one up. "Icky evil running through me?"

"It's true," Lachesis said softly as she too rose from her throne. "Guardians are unable to attain their status unless they have a clean soul…" she made her way to the altar and opened up the ornate box which sat atop it. "But look at what your actions have done, Willow. _Look_ at what you've done."

Willow hesitated, afraid of what Lachesis took out of the box. She was not sure if she wanted to know what she had done. Tara nudged her forward with her shoulder and squeezed her hand one last time before letting go.

"It's okay, promise." She whispered gently.

Gulping, the Wicca approached the altar, shuffling her feet. In Lachesis' hands were two familiar lengths of cord. The lives of her and Tara. The black portions were mysteriously absent and near the bottom, both cords shone in a hue so brilliantly white that Willow was compelled to avert her eyes.

"I…_I_ did that?"

Lachesis grinned broadly and nodded. "Yes, Willow. We will not lie to you." She looked pointedly at Tara. "Either of you…the road ahead is going to be difficult. You _both_ have clean slates now…but neither of you, nor Buffy, will forget what has happened. We are changing the timeline for you, but you must remember everything you have learned… Are you ready?"

"Ready? For what?" the redhead asked.

"To go home."

The smile Willow felt grow on her face felt like it was going to split her head in two. She looked over at Tara whose wide grin matched her own and the blonde slipped her hand inside hers. A hot but comfortable current of energy flowed between them, filling them up with light, with love, with each other. Willow was ready; all she had ever wanted was to go home. When the portal opened, they stepped through it confidently, ready to face their Destiny.

**END**

**AN:** Thank you everybody for feedback, story favoriting, emails, and putting up with weird update schedules. Sorry about the couple hiatus' but I figure I'd make it up by cranking out the last five chapters pretty quickly. There may be a sequel if I ever get an idea for one =)


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